take me back to the start
by graceviolets
Summary: Quinn had him and then she lost him, in a minute, in a flash. A year later they travel back to Lima together to celebrate Beth's birthday. Just like they always do, like they have always done. The only difference that his is not hers anymore.
1. Chapter 1

His car was still black and still shiny and she could hear Van Morrison from the open window. That hadn't changed. Just everything else.

"Hi" he said, leaning to open the door for her from inside

She stuffed her bag in front of her knees and closed the door. She had packed snacks; she always packed snacks. Marshmallows, peanut butter sandwiches and really red apples, because they were the ones he really liked. She hadn't forgotten that.

"Hi" she said.

He reversed out of the bus station parking lot and drove through the city of Boston. She hadn't been here in so long. Their city, the one they had decided on together, so long ago.

"How are you?" he asked, too politely, like he used to ask her mom.

"Fine" she said just as formally. "And you?"

"Not too bad" he replied.

Like strangers or acquaintances or colleagues. Not like people who had loved each other for such a long time. Not like people who had built a life together, bought an apartment, used to have joint accounts in the bank. Not like people who had sent out Christmas cards with both their names printed neatly next to one another.

"Just twelve hours to go" he said lightly, just like he always did on the beginning of this trip, the trip to Beth.

They visited her once a year, that was the deal, on her birthday. Every year in early June they took this drive from New Haven, at first, and then from Boston after their move, to celebrate their daughter's birthday. This year wasn't any different, except from the part that they weren't a couple anymore. They hadn't been one in almost a year.

...

It was her sophomore year of college when he turned up on her doorstep of her off-campus apartment with a duffel bag and a huge grin.

"Hi Quinn" he said excitedly and she stepped back to let him in.

They hadn't met much during her previous college years. She had avoided coming home from the holidays and from she had heard, he had moved to LA. Basically they had just met for Beth's birthday in May and thanksgiving in November. And despite that, here he was, inside her tiny apartment.

"I'm doing a tour" he said. "Crashing on all my friend's couches until they throw me out. Sorry, but you're my next victim."

She laughed because it was ludicrous and so was Puck and she found him sheets and a blanket that her mother had bought ages ago.

"I stayed with Santana, Rachel and Kurt in their awesome place in New York for almost six weeks before they got sick of me" he told her.

"What did you do?"

"Forgot to close the toilet lid or something. Rachel got a panic attack and started screaming things about _germs_."

"What's your plan then?"

"In life? I don't have one. I go on this tour, trying to get interested in something other than playing XBOX. It's nice to see new cities and stuff, you know."

Quinn didn't know. She had barely left New Haven in two years. She felt safe in this city now and desperately didn't want to feel insecure again.

"And it's nice to see you" he added, smiling at her.

"Yeah" she exhaled, feeling awkward for the first time.

He didn't notice. He found her remote control and turned on_ Mythbusters_. She sat down next to him, wondering if he wanted something from her. Someone to sleep with. She had a boyfriend. Well, not a boyfriend actually. She had Henry, her former professor who she sometime kissed on this very couch. He was married of course, still, and at this point, she doubted that would ever change.

"Jesus, I've missed _Discovery Channel_" Puck sighed. "All Rachel and Kurt ever wanted to watch were black and white movies about people being loud and upset."

"I think I learned all I needed to in Biology watching this channel" Quinn smiled.

"Yeah" he said passionately. "It likes _educates _you."

"Yeah" she agreed. "Yeah."

...

God, she hated Van Morrison. Always had and always would. She had put up with it when they were together because love is a compromise and all that. He hated her compulsive way of always sticking small pouches of dried lavender in the closet to make everything smell like summer, but he had put up with that too. Now she didn't have to listen to this anymore, nothing to compromise with.

"Can we listen to something else?" she asked after half an hour.

She saw his jaw set. He looked slimmer than he had before, more grown up and less like a young boy who had played football in high school. He had a new shirt too, it was gray and looked soft. She wondered if _she _had bought it for him.

"Fine."

She opened the glove compartment and flipped through the CDs. She used to keep her Bon Iver and Emmylou Harris CDs there too but they were gone. All that was left was heavy metal and classic rock. He had sorted hers out, erasing every trace of her. It hadn't worked completely though because here she was in person, in his car, again.

"The radio maybe" she suggested.

He fiddled with the car stereo for too long before founding a station. It played hits and hits were okay because they annoyed everyone but enraged no one.

"You did always hate my music" he said, almost bitterly.

"Not all of it."

"Yes, all of it."

She took a deep breath and stared out of the car window. They had passed their old apartment just a few minutes ago. She wondered if he still thought of her when he woke up every morning in it. She wondered of everything reminded him of her, just like everything reminded her of him.

"You hated my music too" she said after too much time.

"No" he corrected. "I never hated it. I just didn't care for it that much. You don't always have to be so dramatic about your feelings. You don't have to _hate _or _love _things."

"Maybe I do."

"Yeah" he sighed.

She turned the volume up and let Katy Perry or Kesha or whoever it was fill the silence between them.

...

They quickly fell into a routine. She went to classes in the morning, studying to get her journalism degree (acting hadn't been her thing), and in the afternoon they ate food on the couch and watched TV. She liked animal documentaries the best, the ones were the filmed deep down in the ocean or in a green rainforest. The ones where a lion would kill a zebra and she would cheer for the lion and cry for the zebra. Puck liked anything concerning World War II, like how Albert Speer designed the concentration camps or about how Eichman had escaped to Argentina.

"It's like history of my people" he used to say, even though she was pretty convinced he just thought they were fascinating because it felt like a movie, but was actually real.

"What do you do when I'm gone all day?" she asked.

"Wait for you to come back" he teased.

She rolled her eyes and opened her laptop to write a report.

"You're really smart, aren't you? Yale girl and all" he asked.

"You should meet the pre-meds. Jesus. I can't even understand what their saying. My roommate freshman year used to date one. I had to google everything that came out of his mouth."

Puck laughed. He had always been like that, generous with his laughter, even if it wasn't a very funny story or joke. It made her feel good about herself. He had always had that effect on her.

"Don't you feel weird, spending all day with those geniuses and then coming home and watch TV with me?"

"No" she said honestly. "Of course not. I have known you since we were kids."

"You're supposed to say _Puck, you're smart too_" he grinned.

"You are. You don't need me to say it."

"I never went to college."

"You still could, if you wanted to."

He shrugged.

"I don't, not really. Can't afford it anyway."

"Not everyone has to go to Yale" she said.

"Nope" he said, winking at her. "Just Quinn Fabray."

She threw a pillow at him and closed her computer again because she would much rather talk to him than write about social economic structures. It was weird, that feeling. All through her freshman year she had imagined killing her roommate Maggie at least a hundred times and wished she had had a single room. Living with someone meant there was always someone to talk and make stupid noises and distract you. Puck did all those things and it just felt nice, reminded her of high school when she was pregnant and lived with him.

...

Beth was turning eight years old and that was something that always made Quinn feel rather sick.

"I'm too young to have a kid that's eight" she had told Santana repeated times over the previous couple of days.

"I'm too young to have friend who keeps going on about her eight year old kid" Santana retorted because she was in a bad mood.

Quinn guessed that you couldn't really understand the surrealistic thing about a child growing older, if you weren't a parent yourself. Not that she was a parent per se. A mother, sure, but not a parent. She had no responsibility or obligations. And almost no contact. She saw her daughter once a year and gave her gift and then left the next day. That was the deal.

"Can you believe she's turning eight?" Quinn mumbled to Puck, both to lighten the mood and because she really wanted to know what he thought.

He still looked upset with her. His lips were straining as he pressed his mouth together. She wanted to coax him out of it, make him smile again, but that wasn't her job anymore.

"No" he answered shortly. "Not really."

She decided to drop it. They didn't need to talk after all. Rachel had told her that several times.

"You're not in a relationship anymore, Quinn, you have no obligation to make small talk with him" she had told Quinn before he picked her up.

"I know" Quinn had answered.

But it was still horrible to sit silently in a car, with someone you had once talked to about everything. Someone who, one year ago, would have discussed the Beth thing with her until they both felt better about once being teen parents and growing older.

"I have to go the bathroom" she said instead because she needed fresh air and to collect her thoughts.

She hadn't been this close to him in a long time. She wasn't prepared.

"We haven't even been on the road for an hour."

"Sorry."

He sighed.

"It's three miles to the next Subway. You can pee there."

"Thanks" she said sarcastically.

Maybe she should have bought a plane ticket instead.

...

Quinn's friends at Yale were all astounded with Puck. He wasn't Ivy League in any way. He was rough around the edges and spoke with food in his mouth and didn't care about the rowing team. (Neither did Quinn but she didn't feel the need to point it out like he did.) Despite all that, they all loved him. He was a lost puppy and they all wanted to give him a home.

"So… you are like just trying to find yourself?" Anne-Belle asked with huge eyes.

"Yeah, basically" he replied sheepishly.

Quinn rolled her eyes. Puck wasn't someone who needed taking care of. He didn't need to college girls with cardigans and blazers to bring him cupcakes (yes, they did that). He enjoyed it too much, she thought.

"He's just a guy" she told them.

"I'm not" Puck argued, pulling her down next to him on the couch. "I'm _the _guy, right?"

"No" she smiled. "You're not."

Anne-Belle and Mary and Kerry all stared at her and him.

"You sure that you're not together?" they asked her later.

"God, no" she replied.

"But he lives with you…"

"That's Puck for you. An inconvenience in human form."

She didn't mean it though. She loved bringing him to parties and school functions because he thought the same things as she did were ridiculous and his tongue was much sharper as he hissed things in her ear. She loved his pasta with meat sauce that he made for dinner almost every night because it was basically the only thing he knew how to make. He was just good to have around. A safe buffer.

"What do you think of my friends?" she asked him one night when Kerry had just gone home.

"They're nice."

"Wow. Please be less specific."

"They're all _very_ nice" he repeated, winking at her.

"Is there something wrong with nice?" she asked.

"You tell me, considering that your best friend is the biggest bitch in the world."

"Santana isn't that bad" she argued.

"Whatever" he grinned.

"And Brittany is the kindest person ever, and she's one of my best friends…"

"Sure."

She exhaled unhappily, giving up and reaching out the change the channel on the TV. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Quinn" he said. "Your pals are all perfectly nice. But I like you better."

And she realized that was exactly what she had wanted him to say.

...

He bought a sandwich while she pretended to use the bathroom. In reality, she washed her face with cold water and then squirted hand sanitizer all over herself. Quinn stared at herself in the mirror. She looked the same as ever, almost the same as she had at sixteen. Her hair was light and reached her shoulders. She kept it like that, it made her feel more grown up than having it long and wavy. She wore glasses when she read now, a sturdy pair with black frames that Puck had teased and told her made her look like some indie music journalist. Other than that, she could have been sixteen or twenty or thirty. Ageless and still heavy with the weight of her years. Beth was eight; which meant that she was twenty-four.

She stepped out of the bathroom and looked at Puck. He didn't look like his sixteen year old self anymore. First of all, he had lost the hideous Mohawk and let it hair grow about an inch over his entire head. He was still wide with muscles and loved to pushups but age had softened his features a bit. He looked kinder than, not as scary as he had once.

She wondered for the umpteenth time what Beth looked like now; which one of them she resembled the most. Quinn could barely remember what she had looked like last year, even if she had photos and video tapings of the last birthday. The most vivid picture she still had of her daughter was the one when Shelby had taken her away, that tiny, pink baby with those big eyes. She cleared her throat because she didn't like thinking about that.

"You done?" he asked, his mouth full of white bread and lettuce.

"Yes."

"Want a sub?"  
"No, thanks" she said, almost affronted. "I brought snacks. You know, peanut butter sandwiches and stuff. Like I always do."

"Right" he said, looking at his half-finished plate with something that almost looked like shame. "I wasn't sure you had… So…"

"Well, I did."  
He nodded. The pimply boy behind the counter stared at them with sneer on his face. She wanted him to stay out of it. She wanted everyone to stay out of it. Of course she had made snacks for the trips, she had always did.

"You know me" Puck said softly. "my tummy's never full. I can eat until I die."  
Yes, she did know him. She was the one who had nagged him about stop eating everything with covered with cheese because he might have heart attack at thirty.

"Let's get back on the road" she suggested.

He agreed and waved in farewell to the boy with acne. A bell sounded as they closed the door behind them. It was hot outside.

"Are you staying in the city for the summer?" he asked.

"Yeah" she answered. "Me and the tourists. Someone has to serve 'em cold drinks, right?"

"Santana's going to the Hamptons, right?"

"Yeah, but she has a girlfriend with a villa on the beach."

"You could always go home to Ohio. Swim in that pool that I used to clean for you" he said and smiled.

"I have to work. Make rent. You know."

"No time for play then?"

"Nope. We can't all be so lucky to have eight weeks of vacation."

He grinned.

"The benefits of being a teacher."

"You ever got that educational degree?" she teased.

"Well, the benefits of being an under qualified teacher then."

She got back into the car and felt like maybe it would be okay after all.

"I couldn't have one of those sandwiches now then?" he asked.

She laughed (yes, actually, laughed).

"_No_."

"Oh well…"

...

"Is he your boyfriend?" Puck asked about Henry after two or three months. "That dude in tweed?"

Quinn had never introduced him, because hadn't introduced Henry to anyone. For obvious reasons. Because he had a wife and two kids in a house outside of town. They spent most of their time together in his office and had only been in the apartment once or twice since Puck moved in.

"No" she answered.

"Why not?"  
"He's married."

Puck snickered.

"Of course he is."  
She scowled at him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, no offense, but you can't just pick an ordinary, nice boy, can you? It has to be destructive in some way, right?"

"Shut up."

He raised his palms to show himself defeated but the harm was already made. He had no right to judge her. She said nothing about his life choices, or rather, of lack thereof.

"Whatever. If he makes you happy…"

"I'm not in love with him" she almost screamed in some kind of defense.

"Does he have kids?" he retaliated.

"None of your business."

"A guy who sleeps with his students. Classy."

She felt her cheeks burn with humiliation and anger.

"What do you know about _class_?" she snapped.

He got up out of his chair. She did too. She remembered being this angry with him before, when she pregnant and blamed him for everything. He had never shouted at her then, always just accepted her wrath. But he had loved her back then. That had changed.

"Your dad, he slept with some young woman, you remember that? Ripped your family apart, crushed your mother…"

"It's not the same…"

"And do you really think that you're the only one? Are you really that fucking naïve, Quinn?"

His voice was raised now. She hated when people screamed at her. It reminded her too much of her father.

"You don't know anything about us."

"There is no you and him. He's just an asshole who's using you. Can't you see that? You're supposed to be smart."

She wanted to slap him. She wanted to make him hurt like he made her feel pain. This is why she never went home, people who knew her could hurt like the girls in cardigans and glasses never could.

...

"How's… Karen?" she asked as they past Waterbury, Connecticut.

She looked out of the passenger seat window because she didn't want him to see her face. She tried to keep it impassive and uninterested but he knew her better than anyone and she just couldn't risk it.

"Fine" he replied.

"Still working at the same school as you?"

"Quinn, do we really need to do this?"  
She swallowed hard. Probably not. She just needed to know the circumstances so she could adapt to it.

"No… It's just… we're friends, right? We should talk about stuff."

"We could talk about the weather" he sighed.

"It's been a year, Puck" she insisted even though to her it made no real difference how much time had gone by.

He sighed again. She still didn't dare to look at his face.

"Fine, okay. Yeah, she still works at my school."

She wanted to ask if she had moved in yet. If Karen now lived in the apartment that Puck and Quinn had bought together. The one they had gone to bank and ask for a loan to able to buy. The one they had picked after just looking at two other places because it was perfect, an attic apartment with a high ceiling and wooden beams. She wanted to know if Karen had redecorated, if there were pictures of them on the walls now. She wanted to know so much, but she couldn't ask.

"Have you met someone then?"

She jumped and felt her checks burn.

"No."  
"Right…"

"I don't really meet people at all. I work almost every night and sleep through the day."

The tone of her voice was so apparently bitter than she bit her tongue. She should at least pretend to be happy.

"City life, eh?" he commented.

"I guess."

Her New York City life was like that, though she doubted most people lived in total isolation. Her life consisted of getting up twelve, going to work at five and then working to two in the morning. She shared that ridiculous Bushwick apartment with four other people but she barely ever met them. Sometimes guys at the diner where she worked would make an effort to flirt with her and some even left there number with the tips. She never called anyone. She didn't want to date anyone who spent their nights at a 24/7 open diner in Brooklyn. Frankly, she didn't want to date anyone.

"You haven't gotten any offers to get another internship?" he asked.

"No. It's… a tough market, I guess."  
Honestly, she hadn't applied to any jobs or internships. The blow of being rejected by the last one had turned her off it.

"Luck will turn, Q" he said kindly. "I know it. You're the most talented person I have ever met."

She felt like she wanted to cry. What did he know?


	2. and I rush to the start

"Here" he said, handing her an envelope and smiling a bit too excitedly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Rent" he said. "I got my first paycheck today"

She frowned at him.

"You don't have job."

"Yeah, I do. I just didn't tell you because well, I have a bad track record of keeping jobs."

She peeked into the envelope. Bills lay flat against each other inside the white paper.

"What kind of a job is it?" she asked suspiciously.

She had never had a job that paid you in cash. Well, she had never had a job, period. But she had never known anyone who had been paid like that.

"I'm a substitute teacher in a school" he said beaming.

"But you have no degree?"

"I don't need it. They were desperate. Apparently, the kids are kind of, well, you know troubled and drive the teachers crazy. They all go on sick leave or whatever and there's where I come in."

He looked so extremely proud of himself that Quinn couldn't help but smile. She pushed the envelope back into his hand.

"My daddy bought me this place, Puck. I don't pay rent, just utilities and he pays for that too. Feels bad for treating me like shit."

"Oh."

He almost pouted.

"But I can buy groceries. You know. Beef and stuff."  
"Yeah" she smiled. "Yeah, you can."

"Or get my own place. I can afford it now, not as a nice place as this but some dingy place. You don't have to put up with me anymore."

She wondered what it meant that he chosen to stay here. In New Haven. It wasn't the center of the universe.

"You should save the money" she said quickly. "You can stay here and save most of your paycheck. Never know when the car of yours will break down."

He grinned and she did too because she didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to be alone again. She had forgotten how to act when no one was there but her.

"Thanks, Q" he said and gave her a hug so tight she almost lost her breath.

"What are you teaching those kids anyway?" she asked curiously.

"Nothing really. I just play the guitar and hand out crayons. It's the easiest job in the world."

That night they bought Chinese takeout to celebrate. He celebrated his new job and she that he was staying. At least for a while.

…

She watched him drive and saw him relax as the miles past behind him. She knew no one else who loved driving as much as Puck did. She used to sigh at it and try him to understand global warming, but gave up in the end because it was his thing. His way of getting away from his troubles.

"How's your family doing?" she asked because it was safe ground and polite and she was nothing if not polite.

"Fine" he said absent-mindedly, passing a green van that was driving way too slow. "Hannah just graduated High School."

"Were you there?"

"No, couldn't get the day off. I don't know if mom cried more about that or the graduation itself."

"You'll see them this weekend."

"Yeah. Bought Han this awesome gift so she'll forgive me."

"What is it?"

"A necklace, gold, very nice, you know."

Quinn wondered if Karen had picked it out. Puck would have been lost inside a jewelry store. Quinn had always been the one to drag him into shops to buy things for his mother or Hannah. And every birthday Hannah would give Quinn's hand a squeeze because she had known that it was Quinn that had picked out the perfume or blouse. Now that was Karen's job. Karen was the one who would get that smile from Mrs. Puckerman.

"What about your mom, how's she doing?" Quinn asked quickly because she didn't want to think about Karen.

"Great. I think she's seeing this guy, Hannah's told me, but she refuses to spill anything about it."

"Wow. That's great."  
"Yeah, I know. She's been alone for like fifteen years."

Quinn nodded. She had been alone for a year and it was making her ill.

"What about your family?" he asked.

She wondered if he really wanted to know. It was harder to know these days. When he had been younger he had never done anything out of politeness. She guessed she had forced that onto him. She wished she hadn't.

"Dad's in Montecito, working. He married some girl named Julie last year. She's twenty-eight."

"Ouch."

"Mom cried an entire weekend. I think, I mean, she doesn't want him back, but it was just like a sign that their life together is over."

"Right."

She wondered what had been the sign that she and Puck was over. Maybe when he had met Karen. But she hadn't known about until after it had happened. Maybe she was still waiting for that moment, so that she could move on.

"Puck?"

"Yeah."  
"Do we… Do we say something to Beth? About… Karen. About us not being together."

His hands clutched the steering wheel with such force that his knuckles turned white. She wished that she had kept her mouth shut.

"She's just a kid. She won't know the difference" he said.

"Okay."

…

"It's nice to see you together" Shelby said and Quinn blushed.

"No… we're not a couple" she stammered.

"Perhaps not, but it's still good to see you together."

Beth was four and went to preschool and talked a lot of her new favorite TV-show. She sat in her grandfather's lap and sung songs from the score. Quinn didn't know the name of it. She felt so far away from her daughter. It was the first time Puck and Quinn had driven to Lima together, the first road trip.

"He lives with me" she told Shelby. "He has for a while."

"And you let him?"

"Yeah… Well, I have to repay him. He let me stay with him when I was pregnant."

"I don't really think that was a big sacrifice on his part" Shelby commented.

Quinn thought that she wasn't making a big sacrifice either. She was afraid of him leaving. She didn't want to be alone.

"You know, Beth" Puck said, sitting down next to Beth and Shelby's father. "you have your favorite TV-show and I have mine. They have this really cool thing on History Channel when they add colors to black and white footage of the Nazi rallies."

Beth raised her eyebrows and giggled. Quinn smiled too. Her daughter didn't grasp that they were her birthparents yet. Shelby had never hidden it but Quinn guessed at four, it was hard to understand the whole adoption thing. However, she had accepted Puck immediately and laughed at all his jokes. Like most people did.

"And Quinn, do you know what she loves? She loves this show called _Monkey World_ where they like follow a park full of monkeys. She cries like twice per episode."

Beth giggled again even though she probably understood nothing of what he said.

"I don't cry" Quinn replied.

Puck nudged Beth's side.

"She does" he whispered theatrically.

Quinn shook her head at them. She wondered what she would do without him. She might be the one with the good grades and a college education, however, he was a social genius. Nobody could help but love him.

"Does he have any plans of moving out?" Shelby asked quietly.

Quinn hesitated for a second.

"I hope not."

…

The car made a coughing noise and jolted back and Quinn closed her hand tightly around the handlebar on the car door. Puck swore under his breath.

"What's happened?" she asked, breathlessly.

"I don't know" he muttered as he pulled over at the side of the road.

She stayed inside while he went to inspect the damage. They still had about nine hours to go. Car problems at this point wasn't good. But even more than that, this car was Puck's baby. If it had broken down, he would be impossible the entire weekend. She saw, as he opened the hood of the car, a thick, black smoke escape and cloud air around him. She exhaled deeply and started to look for the number to triple-A.

"Fuck" he swore as he got back into the car.

His fingers were black with oil. She wanted to clean them off with one of the Kleenex she had in her purse, but she had a feeling it wasn't the best of time.

"Big problem?"

"Yep."  
She handed him the folder with his car insurance that she once forced him to upgrade. He had kept telling her that he had worked in Burt's garage, that he knew how to fix a fucking car. She hadn't given in and now she was thankful for it. It didn't matter if he knew how solve this problem, he couldn't do it with no tools, at the side of the highway.

"Call Shelby" he said.

"What do you I tell her?"

"We'll be late."  
"How late?"

He was already dialing to call for help and got out of the car instead of responding. She guessed that he didn't have an answer. Beth's birthday was in the morning. If they had arrived on schedule, they would have been in Lima late tonight and been able to spend entire birthday with her.

"Shelby? Hi. It's Quinn."

Despite having such entwined lives, Quinn felt that she knew really nothing about Shelby. The woman had put her own daughter up for adoption, and then adopted Quinn's baby. A woman who had abandoned everything career related and moved back to the sleepy town of Lima. All of it was a mystery to Quinn.

"How's the trip?" Shelby asked.

"Not so good. We've broken down. I don't know what's wrong but Puck's pissed so you know… Probably nothing good."

Quinn could hear a voice in background, a child singing lightly. Her heart jumped. Beth. Then she realized that Shelby was at work and it was probably some freshman she was having singing lessons with.

"Well, nothing you can do about it" she said rationally.

"No" Quinn agreed.

"I'll see you when you get here."

"Yeah."  
She hung up. She wondered how much Shelby cared that she and Puck was coming late. Other relatives were coming too, grandparents and cousin and parents. It probably didn't matter that two, near strangers, were caught in a broken down car. It was probably only to Puck and Quinn it mattered more than anything.

"Did you call her?" Puck asked, sticking in his head through the door.

"Yes."

"The tow truck will be in a few hours."  
"A few hours?"  
"Yeah. Apparently there's some big accident up ahead. We're not top priority."

She could see the strain on his face. Both of them were counting the hours they would miss with Beth.

"Do you want a sandwich?" she asked softly because keeping his blood sugar up was vital in a crisis, she had learnt from over the years.

He nodded and gave her grim smile. She lowered her window because it was already too hot inside the car.

"Thank god you brought snacks" he said.

"I always do" she replied.

…

"What do you mean?" Tina asked. "He _lives _with you?"

Tina was one of few of Quinn's friends that had stayed in Ohio. She went to college in Columbus and came home on the weekends to her parents and her dog.

"Yeah. I mean, he lives with everyone. He stayed with Mercedes for a while in LA and with Brittany in New Mexico and with the gang in New York."  
"How long has he lived with you?"

"About four months."

"Did he stay that long with the others?"  
"I don't know."

Actually, she did know. He had stayed three weeks with Mercedes in her label-owned one bedroom apartment in the suburbs before going insane with boredom. He had crashed on Brittany's dorm room floor for a month. And he had stayed with Rachel, Kurt and Santana in New York for about two months. She didn't tell Tina this because it might mean something.

"I mean, no offense, but New Haven isn't really much if you don't go to Yale, right?" Tina asked.

Quinn immediately felt protective over her new home town. No, it wasn't much. It had major socioeconomic gaps that were rarely addressed and no flare to brag about. But it was her home now. "He's got a job" Quinn said quickly. "He's like sub at a school."

"A job? So he's staying?"

Quinn shrugged like she couldn't care less. Tina leaned forward over her kitchen table, almost knocking Quinn's coffee mug over.

"Does he sleep in your bed?"

"_No_. God. He sleeps on the couch."

"I mean, it wouldn't be that strange. You used to be a thing, right?"

"Yeah, _used to be, _past tense."

She checked the clock on the wall. She and Puck were taking Beth out to the park in an hour. She had already made hot chocolate and cut up apples into tiny pieces. It was the first time they would be alone with their daughter in a long time.

"Do you see Beth often?" she asked Tina.

"Not really. I don't live here anymore, remember? I just come home on weekends."  
"Right. I just… It's hard for me to picture her having a normal life, when I only get to see her once a year."

Tina made a sympathetic noise. Quinn didn't want people pitying her. They didn't understand. No one could ever understand.

"You knew this would happen though" Tina said softly. "You gave her up for adoption."  
Quinn remembered of how one adoption counselor she had been forced to talk to had told that it wasn't called, _giving up for adoption_, because it sounded so negative. The woman had insisted on calling it _put up for adoption _or something equally stupid.

"I know. But I was just a kid then. I didn't know the consequences."

"Well, if you could change it. How would do it differently?"

Quinn looked away. This was why she didn't come here anymore. She didn't want to talk about these things. That was why she hadn't turned up those mandatory meeting at the adoption office. She just wanted to forget.

"I need to go" she said, getting up and brushing the crumbs off her shirt.

…

The highway offered no shade and the sun stood high in sky. Quinn felt her dress turn from dry to moist to wet. Puck pulled his shirt off and covered his face with it to protect it from the sun. Almost all the water was gone from the bottles and Quinn's mouth was parched.

"How far is it to the next town?" she asked.

"Ten miles."

"I could walk it. Get some water and come back."

"That would take hours."

"Well, we might have to wait for hours."

Not a car had stopped to assist them. Even if Quinn knew that she wouldn't have pulled over either, she still hated them for it.

"If you get towed, just call me and I'll stay there and wait for you."

"No" he said flatly.

"We're getting dehydrated."

He removed the white shirt from his face and glared at her. Her method of keeping his blood sugar high wasn't working.

"You're not going to walk ten miles, alone, along a highway."

"Fine. You go and I stay and wait for the towing."

"Yeah, because leaving you here alone is much better."

She rolled her eyes because she was sweaty and grumpy too.

"What do you think is going to happen?"

"Oh, I don't know. You could get lost, get hurt, someone could hurt you. The opportunities are endless."

She clamped her mouth shut and leaned again the hood of the car. It was hot and burned the back of her thigh. She jumped and Puck shook his head at her.

"Stand still" he sighed.

"Don't be mad at me" she hissed. "It's not my car."

She hated when he treated her like a little girl, like she couldn't take care of herself. She was grown up now. She lived in a dangerous city where she almost always went out at night, alone. She wasn't afraid.

"I know you're angry that you're missing time with Beth. So am I. But stop biting me head off" she snapped.

She turned away from him and went to pick a pick a book out of her bag. At least she would look occupied. She opened the novel where she had last closed it and focused on the words.

"Sorry" he mumbled.

She looked up on his sweaty and blotchy face. He looked so devastated she wanted to hold him tight. For him, seeing Beth was nothing but joy. In contrast to her who both longed and feared this day, he loved it. Perhaps because he had wanted to keep her, all those years ago.

"It'll work out" she said in her steadiest voice.

…

"They don't understand" she said as Beth swung high on swing on the playground. "They all think they do, but they don't."

"Then you make them understand how you feel" Puck said.

Beth was making small noises of glee every time he pushed her higher. She wore red dress with a white bow and red converse and her hair was as dark as Puck's. She was the most beautiful child on the playground, Quinn thought, but then again, maybe all mothers thought that of their children.

"How?" Quinn asked. "I can't with words. It… just hurts too much."

"I know" he said and yes, he knew, only him.

"Don't push it higher or she'll fall off" Quinn commented.

"Nah, you hold on tight, right, Beth?"

Their daughter made happy sound that Puck took as a yes.

"Did you ever go see that adoption counselor?" she asked.

"Yeah, once or twice. You didn't?"

"Only once, in the hospital, when I couldn't get away."

"You didn't like her?"

"I don't like talking about it with people who don't understand."

She grabbed Puck's arm to stop him from pushing the swing higher because she didn't want to come home to Shelby with a crying girl. Beth made a disappointed moan.

"Let's go on the slide instead" Quinn encouraged her.

Beth pouted until Puck took her hands and lifted her off her feet. She giggled into his neck.

"Quinny's just looking out for us" he told her their daughter. "Making sure we don't get hurt."

She watched them as they played. Beth clung to Puck like a baby monkey to its mother.

His dark features had overpowered her blonde ones and given their daughter brown hair and brown eyes. She had long, lean fingers and thick hair and a lovely smile. She was loud and talked a lot and loved sports. Quinn wondered if she had given her daughter anything. Everything seemed to be Puck's.

"Are you two married?" Beth asked suddenly in her high voice.

Puck laughed.

"Nope. You see, Quinn's with this professor, who is married to someone else."

She elbowed him in the ribs. She didn't want Beth to repeat that to Shelby.

"Why?" Beth asked.

"Don't know, honey, you have to ask the lady herself."

"Don't pay any attention to him" Quinn sighed, fixing a stray of Beth's hair.

"My mom's not married."

"Yeah, we know."

"You could marry her" Beth suggested to Puck.

Quinn made a face. She still had emotional scars from when Puck had told her that he had kissed Shelby in that emergency room as those years ago.

"Nah, she wouldn't want me."

"I don't have a dad."

"'Course you have, you have me."

"Then what are _you_?" Beth asked Quinn with such seriousness it almost scared her.

Quinn opened her mouth and then shut it again.

"I..I.."

"Aren't you the luckiest girl in the world, Beth?" Puck intervened. "You have two mothers."

…

Midday turned to afternoon and still no one came for their car or for them. Quinn finished her book and sat down the ground. Puck was still pacing.

"Hey" she said. "Sit down."

"I can't."

"It's not the end of world. Calm down."

"We get a weekend with her. That's it. And we're wasting it here."  
"I know."

She took his hands as he passed her and dragged him onto the grassy ground. His skin was clammy and hot.

"Maybe you can talk about Shelby about coming down another weekend."

"She won't allow it."

"I don't know. You could always ask."

He exhaled slowly and leaned his head against hers , for support. Like he had forgotten that they weren't really allowed to touch anymore. The stickiness of his skin stuck the sweat on hers. His smelled like he used to after a run. When he used to pull her into the shower with him.

"How did you tell Karen?" she asked.

He tensed and pulled away.

"About what?"

"About Beth."

"I just did. I don't have issues with talking about it."

"Like I do?" she asked.

He shrugged and got up and started pacing again. She had ruined the moment with purpose. She couldn't get used to him again. It would hurt too much when they had to part.

"And she just accepted that you have a kid?"

"Yeah."

"Just like that?"

"_Yes, _Quinn. It's not a big deal."

She shook her head. Of course it was a big deal. If Karen didn't think so, she was stupid.

"And I showed her your short film" he said.

Quinn stayed quiet, processing what he had told her.

"You did what?"

"The short documentary you made as your senior project. About adoption. I showed it to Karen."

She got up too, almost tripping with haste. She wanted to punch him. Anywhere. To make him feel what she felt.

"You had no right to do that."

"What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Why does it matter? You sent that movie to a lot of places when you were applying for internships. It's not a secret."

"It matters to me" she almost screamed.

"It's not even about us. You interviewed Rachel and all those other girls. You're not even in it."

That was a lie. She was in it. Not her face or her story but everything else. She had worked for over a year with that fifteen minute documentary that had given her an internship. It was the thing she was most proud of in the world.

"Karen had no right to see that" she snapped.

"It's just a movie."

"It's not a just a movie" she screamed because she had never been this angry before.

_It's my therapy_, she wanted to tell him, because didn't he know that?

"They're here" Puck said.

"What?"

"The towing truck. It's here."

…

"You know what" he said as they drove home from Lima.

Beth had turned four and blown out four candles and opened presents. She had hugged them goodbye, like they were relatives, a nice aunt and uncle. Quinn felt exhausted; like she had run a marathon.

"No, what?" Quinn asked.

"You should make a documentary about it. Like one of those on _Discovery_."

"About what?"

"About adoption. If you want people to get it. That's how I understand things. I took chemistry in High School but understood nothing of until we watched that show about the periodic thing."

"Periodic Table."

"Yeah. That."

She watched his hands on the steering wheel. They were strong and sure. She wondered if he ever doubted anything.

"You could do it in school, instead of that stupid magazine you keep whining about that everyone does as a senior project" he went on.

"I don't want to talk about it" she said. "I don't want to film myself and talk about it."

"Get other people to then. Rachel would love it; being the spot light."

The darkness hid her face as she tried to idea in her head. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about taking that direction with her journalism degree. There were all these classes about making TV, about production and leading a project. She had never talked about it with anyone. All her friends who were also journalism majors all wanted to be war correspondents in Kabul or start feminist magazines. TV felt degrading and less important.

"If people want to see that, they'll watch _Teen Mom _on MTV" she said flatly.

"C'mon, that's not the same thing."

His voice sounded slightly hurt. She sighed. He didn't understand she wasn't criticizing his idea, just the idea of her doing it.

"I'll think about it" she said which was vague enough for them to never talk about it again.

"You should" he said. "I mean… I really think it'd be good."

"For me?"

"Yeah, for you and like… for me and others. Interesting."

She wanted in, under his skin, where everything seemed to be confident and self-assured. She wanted to believe in things too, like he did.

"I'm sure your boyfriend would help you with the psych things, be like an expert, _This is what the mom feels and why. _"

"He's not my boyfriend" Quinn sighed.

"Could have fooled me. Didn't you come home wearing his tweed blazer the other night?"  
"It was cold. I didn't have a jacket."

She felt relief that he changed the subject. Talking about Henry wasn't her favorite thing but it was more pleasant than talking about Beth.

"Has he made promises to you?" Puck asked in a mocking voice. "That he's going to leave his wife and marry you instead?"

Quinn punched his shoulder with her knuckles. He groaned.

"Shut up about it, okay?"

They sat quiet for about half an hour. Van Halen or whatever was screaming about LOVE and HATE and FIRE but Quinn didn't get annoyed by it. After they had stopped for a toilet break, she grabbed his arm.

"Do you really think I could do it?" she asked with a neediness in her voice that she hated.

He smiled at her.

"Of course. You're Quinn Fabray, right? What can't you do?"

"Be serious."

"I am."

There was no hint of doubt in his voice. She giggled, suddenly high on his belief in her. As they started up again, she actually sang along to some of the terrible songs that she recognized from Glee. His presence was infecting her with hope and joy and she hoped he would never stop, would never leave.

…

They got two separated motel rooms at the Motel 6 down the road from the garage where the tow truck had left Puck's car. She had never stayed in a motel before, only hotels and nicer places. And she had never done it alone. She removed the bed spread quickly because she had read that it was full of germs and then went to take a shower.

It would take about a day to fix the car, the nice mechanic had told them. Puck had said 'fuck' at least eight times but Quinn had made no excuses for him. It wasn't her responsibility anymore. Quinn didn't even bother to remember what was wrong with the car, her only concern was being alone. It would have been cheaper to share a room, twin beds of course, but she had refused. She would happily pay for her own room with the tips from the men who stared down her waitressing outfit. A moment more with Puck and she would break.

The shower was like a blessing, ice cold and the hotel soap made her skin soft again. She washed her hair three times and then brushed it carefully until it lay flat on her head. There was no point putting on any clothes since she wouldn't leave the room so she curled up under the covers and watched TV. National Geographic was showing a documentary about a small tribe of people in Africa lived with a matriarch. It was produced by _Kennings_, the place where she had been an intern for a year. She recognized the names of the editors and it made everything feel worse.

The knock on the door made her jump. She pulled on the sweaty dress quickly and peered through the keyhole. She wasn't going to open if it was some creepy guy. She had watched enough TV to know that. But it was Puck. Of course. Quinn unlocked the door.

"Hi" he said.

"Hi."

His eyes swept over her body, of the dress that clung to her still damp body and the lack of bra. She crossed her arms. He had no right to look like at her anymore.

"I bought you take-out. As a peace offering."

She snorted.

"I'm fine, thanks."

She made a movement to shut the door again, but he stopped her. He was stronger than she and kept it open.

"Look. I don't really know why you're so upset but I'm sorry, okay?"

"Fine."

"And I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"Alright"

He held out the bag of food. It smelled wonderful and made her stomach groan.

"Noodles with chicken, no soy. Just like you want it."

It wasn't fair that he remembered her Chinese order.

"Thanks" she said, taking hold of the bag, but he wasn't letting go.

"I am sorry."

"I know."

"You want to come over and eat with me?"

"No."

"Why not?"  
"All we've done today is fight and then make-up and then fight again. I'm sick of it."

He let go of the bag.

"Okay."

She nodded. He hadn't showered yet, the smell of sweat still clung to him. She remembered when he used to smell like her soap, rose and saddle wood. The scent would wear off within an hour or he would never have used it, but she loved it. It made her feel close to him.

"Good night" she said.

"Yeah" he breathe out.

She shut the door and locked it with a bolt. She slid back into bed and the women of tribe who were honored for their womanhood. She wondered if Puck was watching this too.


	3. running in circles, coming up tails

Henry's hands were up her skirt when they heard steps in the corridor. It was too late in the evening to be another professor and too early to be the janitor. They both froze. Heals on the wooden floor, coming closer. Tap, tap, tap.

"Hide" he hissed.

She grabbed her blouse from the floor and straightened her skirt and opened the door to the study of Henry's colleague Professor Gardner. He almost pushed her through it and closed that door behind her. She leaned against thin wood and heard someone step into Henry's study. A female voice spoke in a frantic way. Quinn could only hear every third word or so, but she caught the jiff. His wife. Angry. Suspicious.

"Sally has the flu, Henry, and you told me you had to work but here you are, in the dark, doing nothing!"

"I was just leaving."

"Pull your fly up then."

Quinn closed her eyes. She needed to get out and never come back.

"Where are you hiding her?"

The door suddenly flung open and Quinn crashed onto the floor. Undignified, she stared up onto the face of Henry's wife. She looked younger and prettier than she had expected.

"She's just a girl."

"She's my grad student, Mary. Just helping out with paper work."

"Don't lie to me."

Quinn scrambled to her feet. She wanted to check if she had lipstick all over her face, but it wasn't really the time to make herself pretty. She still held her blouse in her hand.

"Get out" Mary shouted.

And Quinn didn't need telling twice. She grabbed her purse and ran for it. On the stairs, she fumbled with her phone and called Puck.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"Can you pick me up at school?"

"I thought Professor Lover was driving you home."

"Change of plans. Can you make it?"

"Sure. Will be there in ten."

"Thanks."

She was just about to hang up when he spoke again.

"You okay, Q?"

"Yeah, sure"

"He didn't do anything, did he? He didn't hurt you?"

"No, nothing but my pride. I'm fine. I just really need to get out of here before his wife changes her mind and kills me."

Puck laughed.

"Gotcha. Hang tight, I'll be there soon."  
She hung up. The sound of angry voices followed through the entire psych building.

…

The Chinese food made her thirsty so she pulled on a hooded sweater and went outside to find a vending machine. The evening was still warm and the wind was soft against her face. Quinn had no idea where she was, could never point out this town on a map, but for once it didn't scare her. In a day they would be out of here.

"You looking for this?" someone called.

Puck stood a few feet away, getting ice from the ice machine on the corner.

"No" she said. "Vending machine."

"I saw it, it's other there" he said, pointing at a small light across the parking lot.

She nodded and headed towards it. He followed. She wondered if he had amnesia; she had him told not two hours ago that she wanted to be alone.

"Aw, _Snickers_" he sighed happily at the sight of the candy through the glass window. "And_ Dorito's_"

She ignored him and inserted a bill and was rewarded with a diet coke. He patted his pockets, looking for change. She mutely handed him her wallet.

"Thanks" he said softly.

It took ten minutes for him to decide what to buy. She stood two feet behind him and waited silently as he went on and on about the pros and cons about eating salty snacks.

"Done" he said brightly and handed her the wallet back.

"Good."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"No."

"You are" he said. "I can tell. You always clench your jaw together when you're pissed at me."

She turned away from him and headed back to her room.

"Is it about Karen, Quinn?" he called too loudly. "Is it some kind of jealousy?"

"No."

"I mean, you were the one who broke up with me…"

She squeezed the tin can so tight that her fingers dented the soft metallic surface. Any harder, and soda would start dripping down her wrist.

"You were with me, for three years, no, more than that. And we break up and you don't care at all?"

"Of course I cared" he insisted.

"What did it take? Three months? Three months and you were with someone else."

"C'mon, Q. Be fair."

"I am being fair. Date whoever you want, but you shouldn't have showed her that film. _That_ wasn't fair, Puck."

She looked past him, into the darkness, away from the light. She couldn't stand seeing him. His face or his eyes or the way he was looking at her now. She could feel his gaze on her. It itched like a mosquito bite.

"I just thought we, you and me, meant more, to you" she said so slowly that almost a whole minute past from the first word to the last.

"You were the one who left me" he said simply and she couldn't deny it.

Instead she wanted to say that she was sorry and she regretted it all, but it was too late. A year had gone by. She couldn't just take it all back.

"Can you at least look at me?" he asked seriously.

She did. She wondered when he had grown into a man. An intelligent and kind man with the softest eyes and the sharpest features.

"I'm sorry" she said because he said it earlier today and she hadn't.

She never said that she was sorry enough.

"Alright."

He stepped closer to her, bent down and kissed her forehead. The touch of his lips against her skin made her shiver. She took hold of the sleeve of his shirt, tracing the inside of his wrist with the tips of her fingers.

"I miss you" she whispered so quietly that she almost didn't say it all.

"I miss you too."

Quinn turned her face up and kissed his lips. He remained impassive, just kept breathing heavily.

"This isn't fair, we shouldn't do this. It's not fair" he told her. "To you or to me."

"Or to Karen" she added out of spite.

"Yeah; or to Karen."

She stepped away, hating herself for letting herself get close again. Every time she had to take a step back, it hurt like a knife between the ribs.

"Good night."

She left him with his chocolate at the vending machine and headed back to her room.

…

"I think you need a beer" Puck said, opening the fridge and handing her a cold bottle.

"I don't drink beer."  
"Trust me; nothing like a beer to get over getting caught in the act."

"You have experience?"

He shrugged, getting a bottle for himself too. Quinn sat down on the couch and leaned back against the cushions. Shame still burned hot inside her but it was fine really. It actually was kind of relief. A easy way out of something that would never evolve.

"We both have issues with cheating" he commented, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll drink to that."

She took a sip of the golden liquid in the green bottle and was again reminded why she only drank wine. There's was no escaping the fact that beer tasted like pee. Despite that, she took a second gulp.

"So, Miss Fabray, you a free woman now?"

"When have I not been?" she sighed. "Haven't had a boyfriend since Finn."

"Good for you."  
"And what about you? Where do you take your ladies when you don't have your own place?"

Puck sighed dramatically.

"Where would I meet any chicks? I work at a school where other the teachers are like fifty and the only people I meet are your friends, who were cardigans and sensible shoes. Not my type."

"Hey, I don't wear sensible shoes."

"Well, you're the exception then."

"Yeah" she exhaled. "The only exception."

He sat down next to her on the couch. She curled up her feet to make room for him. It was a wonder that he could sleep on this tiny thing. He never complained even though it would have given anyone else back problems.

"Thanks for coming to pick me up" she said.

"Anytime."

"I mean it. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come to get me."

"I mean it too. Anytime. Seriously."

She smiled and mouthed thanks.

"Anyway, I never liked that Henry dude."

"You've never even met him" she sighed, punching his arm playfully.

"I know, but you kept missing _Whale Wars _when you were with him. You missed Peter's breakdown last week."

"Peter broke down?"  
"Yeah, the Japanese killed a whale and Peter just, cried, like a baby. I almost did too."  
"Did you TiVo it?" she asked.

"Yeah."  
"Can we watch it?"  
"I already saw it."  
"Can't you watch it again, with me? It's no fun watching alone."  
"That's what I said."

"Fine. I'll be home every night from now on. No boyfriends."

"I like the sound of that" he smiled.

…

"Wait" Puck called and she waited.

He caught up with her on the stone path outside her motel room.

"For what?" she asked quietly.

"You miss me?"  
"Yes."

"I miss you too."

"Yeah, you said."

Her tone was harsher than she had intended but he made no comment. Instead he kissed her, on the lips, softly and slowly. She draped her arms around his neck. His hands ran down her sides. She wondered if he could tell that she had lost weight. She hadn't had much hunger the last year. It was only thanks to diner fries that she wasn't all skin and bones.

"Do you love her like you loved me?" she asked against his lips.

"You can't ask that."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't tell you."

"Okay."

He let go of her and she felt empty, emptier than she had in a long time. Then he took her hand. She hid her fingers within his.

"Come on" he said. "Let's go to bed. It's late."

She nodded and followed him to his room. She pretended it was the olden days, the days when there would only be one room because they would share it. Like they shared everything. Quinn pulled her sweater over her head and clambered into the bed. He hadn't removed the bed spread. He had never taking germs as seriously as she did. Puck turned the TV off. He had been watching the same channel as she had. She wondered what he thought of that African tribe with matriarch, but didn't ask. Suddenly she was just too tired.

"Good night" she said for the second time as he lay down too.

"Good night."

He moved in closer, resting a hand on her hip, just like he always had. She pressed her cold feet against his shins, like she always had. He kissed the back of her neck. She closed her eyes. And felt safe again.

…

"You're okay with this?" Quinn asked Rachel for the third time.

"Of course. I have no issues whatsoever talking about my so-called adoption. It lies in my past and I have moved on."  
"Great."

"Do you have other girls participating yet?"  
It was summer and the holidays and Quinn had taken the train to New York for a few days. She would have to go home, to Ohio, eventually. Her mother talked about nothing else and Puck had already gone. With the school closing for break, he had no job for the summer and went back to Lima to clean pools again. Quinn had no job at all. None except working on this film that was burning in head, screaming to be made.

"Not yet. I'm working on it."

Rachel nodded excitedly. Quinn wondered how much of this was about her friend wanting to be on camera, at any price. She didn't question it, though, because having one person onboard was better than none.

"When will we start filming?" Rachel asked.

"In the fall. I have to borrow equipment from school."

"I see."

Quinn looked around the spacious but almost empty Bushwick apartment that Rachel, Kurt and Santana shared. They all seemed to like it, but Quinn could never live there. There were no real walls, no privacy. She thought lovingly of her small, cozy apartment with door that could close.

"Will Puck be partaking in this documentary also?"

"What? Oh. No. I don't think so. I don't really want it to be about me."

"And because you are a couple you think that would be unavoidable?"

"We're not a couple, Rachel."

"Hasn't he lived with you for six months?"

"Yeah."

"And you spend most of your time together?"

"I suppose."  
"Then, what's the difference from being a proper couple?"

Quinn stared into Rachel's big eyes. She tilted her head annoyingly to one side, like she had made a point, which she hadn't."

"We're not in love for starters" Quinn said.

"You're not in love with him and still put up with him? I mean, I love Noah, but when he lived here, I wanted to kill myself every time he showered and covered the entire floor with an inch of water."

"I guess I just don't care about those things" Quinn shrugged.

Rachel giggled.

"That's a joke, right? Basically the only thing you and I have in common is how anal we both are about our surroundings. And still, you don't care that he puts empty milk cartons into the fridge and leaves half-empty coffee mugs everywhere?"

"No, not really."  
Rachel tilted her head again. Quinn rolled her eyes. This was not Rachel making a point. There was no point to be made.

"Why would be a bad thing if you two got together?" Rachel asked seriously. "You keep brushing it off but seriously, why not?"

"We went down that road and it ended up with a baby and a miserable life."

"Well, then use a condom" Rachel suggested bluntly.

Quinn almost blushed. Almost. She wasn't a little girl anymore.

"It's just not going to happen, Rach."

"Right" she responded slowly, tilting her head a third time.

Quinn walked away.

…

She was woken by the sun that shone through the thin blinds of the motel room. She rolled over and pressed her face into a pillow, craving darkness. When her eyes had adjusted, she opened them an inch. He was not there. She was alone in the bed. The bathroom door was ajar and the room was empty. He had left.

"Puck?" she tried hopelessly.

She wasn't stupid. She knew that it had been idiotic to follow the impulse to sleep together (even if it was just sleep). She knew that he would feel bad and leave and she would feel even worse. Sometimes Quinn hated to be right. She got up and put her clothes back on. It was almost noon. She had slept about fourteen hours.

_"No. I know. Yes. I get that. I know."_

She flinched at the sound of his voice. But he wasn't inside. She saw his silhouette through the closed blinds as he paced outside the room. His voice was muffled but evidently the walls were thin enough to let most words through. He was on the phone, he always paced when he was on the phone. Karen. Great.

_"I'm sorry. Yeah… No. I'm being honest, Karen. Why would I lie? Okay. Okay. Yeah."_

Quinn sat down on the unmade bed and watched the outline of him. She should have flown to Lima. Or skipped it all together. Beth wouldn't care. She might have been sad if Puck missed the annual party, but not Quinn. Not the quiet girl who said the wrong things. She didn't need another mom.

_"How about you come down? Yeah. I can stay. Sure. No, it's fine. Lima. Yeah, fly to Columbus and I'll pick you up."_

Quinn went into the bathroom. She washed her face three times. The water wasn't really cold and didn't wake her up entirely. A person wasn't meant to sleep fourteen hours in a row. She took a deep breathe of crappy motel air and then stepped out into the sun light.

"Yeah. You too. Bye."  
He hung up and covered his face with his hands. He had not slept enough, she could tell.

"Morning" she said.

"Yeah. Whatever."

"What did you tell her?"  
"The truth."  
"Really?"

"Yeah" he said, dropping his hands and looking at her. "I don't lie."

"Right."

He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, the shirt he had covered his face with to shield it from the sun. It was dirty and crumbled and despire that she wished for nothing more than to press her face into it.

"I told her it was stupid, but not a big deal. I mean… It was stupid but it was nature or whatever. No need trying to analyze it."

"Right" she said again.

"She got upset though. Who wouldn't?"

"Yeah" Quinn exhaled. "Who wouldn't?"

"Yeah" he agreed.

She nodded as she stepped into her shoes.

"Call me when the car is ready."

"Okay."

She started to walk away from him. She hated how much she craved even a little smile from him. Something. A sign. Instead, she got nothing.

"Hey, Quinn."

She turned.

"Yeah?"  
"You think you can take the bus back on Sunday? I'm not going back east yet."

"Karen's coming here?"

She didn't even try to cover up that she had been listening in. What was the point?

"Yeah."

"Sure. I'll take the bus."

…

Quinn hated summer, she decided. She hated Ohio and Lima and how everyone asked her about Yale but didn't care about the answer. She hated that her father had come to stay and how he acted like they were one happy family. She hated eating breakfast with her mother, not that she hated her mother, but she had lived alone for two years and it was kind of hard to break habits. But mostly she hated that Puck was busy cleaning pools and sleeping with high school seniors and spending time his mother. She missed him.

That was why she agreed to go to Kitty's barbeque on the fourth of July. It would probably be sad, showing up to a High School party when you were about to start your junior year of College, but Quinn pushed the feeling away. She would go, to talk to Puck and then leave. No one would even remember that she had been there.

She spotted him, with a red cup in his hand and a girl on his lap. And she wanted to leave. Why was she acting like this? They were friends. She could just call him. But she didn't want to. Because he hadn't called her. Instead, here she was. She wore a new dress (a gift from Paris and her father) and had curled her hair and wore proper makeup. Quinn knew that she looked nice, however seeing the girl giggling on Puck's knee made her feel worthless. But before she could, Mike found her.

"Thank god you're here" he sighed. "I feel like the oldest person here."

"Why did you come?"

"Keeping an eye on my little sister" he said and pointed at a small dark haired girl who was giggling in a halter top. "How about you?"

"I actually have no idea."

He found her a drink and they sat down on Kitty's parents' lawn. Mike was nice. Mike was safe. He had gotten out too, left this town to chase his dreams.

"Are you here for the summer?" she asked and hoped.

"Nope; just the weekend. You?"

"Yeah. The summer. Going crazy, though. I actually can't wait for the fall; how lame is that?"  
Mike laughed.

"I know the feeling. This isn't our life anymore."

"Yeah" she breathed.

She could hear Puck laugh. He hadn't even noticed her.

"How's Yale?"

"Great. I love it. I mean, some people are… No, whatever. I love it. I feel safe."

It was a much longer and more honest answer than she had given before. She just had a feeling that Mike would listen. She needed someone to listen.

"That's great" he said softly.

"I want to make movies. Documentaries" she said bravely. "Like a career."

"Wow. That sounds cool."  
"You don't think it sounds unrealistic?"

"Who am I to judge? I'm basically going to school to be a dancer."

She laughed. The sky exploded with fireworks and people cheered. Quinn took a sip of punch. It tasted like youth and broken hearts.

"You're nice" she told Mike and put her head on his strong shoulder.

"You're nice too."  
"No" she sighed. "No, not really."

…

The car was fixed at three and they were on the road by 3:10. Puck drove too fast and listened to Led Zeppelin and she let him. She had no right to meddle in his life anymore. She drank coffee and watched the road and thought about absolutely nothing. Or everything, except about him. She thought of work on Monday and how this trip had been a total waste of time. She would get to spend about a total of eight hours in Lima before getting on the Greyhound back to New York. She thought of Rachel, who had a big audition on Friday and how Quinn should call her and ask how the preparing was going. She thought of the new Woody Allen-movie and how much she loved spicy food and everything. Everything except about Puck.

"I'm sorry" he said after three hours.

"For what?"  
"I shouldn't have done that. I should have kept the distance."

She said nothing. He wasn't supposed to be talking about it. She was pretending that it hadn't happened. That she hadn't fallen asleep with him and dreamt no nightmares and how she still smelled like his skin.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to" she said simply, like she didn't care.

"I already told Karen."

Quinn wanted to never hear the name again. No, she demanded it. Never again did she want to talk about Puck's girlfriend.

"I'm sorry about making you take the bus on Sunday. I know it takes forever."

"It's fine" she said even though it really wasn't.

"Stop clenching your jaw then."

"What?"  
"I told you, you always clench your jaw when you're pissed at me."  
She looked away. He wasn't allowed to know anything about her anymore.

"I'm just… making it up to her" he explained. "She's never been here, never met mom or anyone. Taking this step kind of makes up for almost screwing it up."

Quinn said nothing. She willed him to shut up. Her teeth was pressed together. Maybe he was right about the jaw thing.

"If I stay a few weeks Shelby might let me see Beth some more."

Quinn stayed quiet. She counted the trees they passed until they added up to too many and she started to count birds instead.

"You should stay too" he suggested.

"I have a job."

"Ask for time off."

"I would get fired."

Led Zeppelin sang and sang and Quinn counted bushes and red cars and green cars and then birds again. She always gave up after a while. That was her thing, she guessed, giving up.

"Look, Quinn, I care about you…" he began.

"Don't" she snapped and he didn't.

…

Puck was drunk when he found them.

"Happy fourth of July" he said, slurring.

Kitty had her hand in his back pocket. Quinn had always despised girls (and boys) who stuck their hands down someone else's jean pocket. It looked stupid and weird and made no sense.

"Hi Puck" Mike said.

Quinn just smiled. It was late and she was on her way home.

"Where have you two been hiding all night?" Puck asked.

"Here" Quinn said. "On the lawn. Not a very good hiding place."

"I haven't seen you."

"Well, you've been busy."

He raised his eyebrows. She didn't like the look on his face. Mike flicked his car keys in his hands.

"We were just leaving" he said. "Quinn, you want a ride?"  
"Yeah" she said. "Thanks."  
"Wait" Puck said, grabbing her wrist. "You should stay. Both of you."

"My sister has a curfew" Mike explained. "I have to have her home by one o'clock."  
"Fine" Puck scowled. "You leave. Quinn, stay."

"I'm cold and tired."  
"I'll drive you home."  
"You're wasted."

Puck glared at her. Kitty tried to get his attention by making weird moaning noises. He ignored her.

"Quinn, we have to go now" Mike said.

"Right."

She turned, but Puck didn't let go.

"Don't leave with him" he almost begged.

"It's just a ride, Puck" Mike explained slowly. "Just a ride."

"Why didn't you come up and say hi?" Puck asked Quinn.

"You were busy. With _her_."

"So instead you go and cuddle with Mike?"

"Quinn, we're leaving" Mike said finally.

She sighed.

"Fine. I'll walk home. Thanks anyway."  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah."  
Mike and his sister left. She stared longingly after them. She was left with a drunk Puck and Kitty, who was pressing herself closer to him. Quinn wished she had stayed home.

"Puck, let's go inside" Kitty purred. "My parents have a water bed."

Quinn rolled her eyes. Puck looked down on Kitty, like he had forgotten that she was even there.

"Nah" he said simply.

"Please" she whimpered.

"No."

She scowled and then scampered off. Quinn watched as she joined some of her friends and started to cry. Oh the drama.

"Did you come to see him?" Puck enquired.

"Who? Mike. No. Just ran into him here."  
"He's in love with you. I could see it on his face."  
Quinn shivered. She was cold. Her new dress was nice but not warm. Her arms were covered with goose bumps.

"You're drunk" she sighed exasperatedly.

"Why did you come then? You hate everyone in this fucking town."

His face was red and blotchy and his eyes were dim. He needed to sleep it off.

"I came to see you, you idiot" she scolded.

"And then you ignore me all night?"  
"As I said, you were busy."

He stuck his hands down his pockets and pouted and looked onto his shoes. A sad little boy. She reached out and took his hand.

"You should go home too" she said more softly.

"Why don't you call?" he asked instead.

"Well, why don't you?"  
He stared at her and she stared at him.

"I didn't think you wanted me to" he admitted.

"Of course I want you to."  
She decided to get them home. They would walk; it would clear his head. She led him from the party and onto the street. In almost every garden there was another party, everyone was celebrating tonight. Puck walked very slowly and very unsteadily. She held his hand tight to keep him upright.

"I thought you were sick of me" he slurred.

"I'm not" she assured him.

"Can we sit for a bit?" he asked.

"Okay."

They sat on the damp pavement. The moon was bright though the air was still cloudy with smoke from the fireworks. Quinn checked the time, almost two o'clock. Puck closed his eyes. She wondered if he was going to fall asleep siting up. She hoped not. Maybe she could call his mom for help. She was a nurse after all.

"I hate it when we're not together" he mumbled.

"I know. Habits and all that" she agreed.

His hand was still in hers. His heat was radiating into her shivering body. It made her relax.

"No, not just that" he argued. "I hate it when we're not together because I'm in love with you."

She stared at him. His eyes were still closed. He swayed as he sat. So drunk. Wasted.

"Don't be silly" she tried.

"Believe me, I'm trying" he mumbled.


	4. pulling the puzzles apart

He dropped her off at her house at midnight. Quinn was so happy to get out of his car that she didn't even hesitate before stepping into her childhood home. The place she had run from with such rush when she had been younger; now it was her savior.

"You're here!" Judy Fabray exclaimed.

She was sitting at the heavy oak kitchen table with a bottle of wine and a glass in front of her. Her hair had come out of its tidy bun and her cheeks were pinkish. Quinn guessed that her mother had drunken too much and fallen asleep waiting for her.

"Yes" Quinn said, embracing her mother and breathing in the vapors of alcohol.

Judy had always been a wine drinker but after being left by her husband, it had escalated. Quinn knew that she should help, that she should have helped back then, but she had always been too selfish and absorbed in her own problems.

"How are you, honey? That was an awfully long trip."

"Yeah" Quinn agreed. "The longest ever."  
She wanted to take a swig out of the wine bottle, to calm her nerves and make her heart slow down. She lifted it when her mother turned her head and found it empty. No support to be found there.

"You didn't have to wait up for me, mom."

"I know, I know. I just wanted to see you. I don't see you enough."

"Yeah, like you said, it's a long trip."

"You could fly. I bet your daddy still gets those frequent flying points when he travels with his job."

Quinn picked up her suitcase. She didn't want to say that she didn't want anything from her father anymore. Sure, it had been nice of him to pay for the apartment in New Haven, but that was his job, his duty and something he had always planned to do. She was an adult now, she couldn't (and wouldn't) run to daddy for help.

"I have to go home tomorrow" Quinn said instead as she carried her suitcase to her room.

It looked exactly like it had the day she had moved out. It was strangely comforting in her current state of mind.

"Oh, honey. Why?"

"I have to work on Monday. I'll take the bus around noon and be in the city on Monday morning. My shift doesn't start until six so I'm fine."

Judy frowned.

"I thought Puck was driving back with you. It takes much longer with the bus, you know. You have to transfer in four places."

"Believe me, I know. But he isn't going home; he's staying."

Quinn felt her mother's hand on her shoulder. The touch was soft and warm and for the first time in years she was really thankful for her mother. She wouldn't have liked coming home to an empty house.

"How is it with you two?" Judy asked carefully. "Did you have a chance to talk on the road?"

Quinn stepped away from her mother's touch; turning her face away to hide any signs of anything.

"We don't have anything to talk about."

"Alright" Judy whispered gently. "Alright."

"We should go to bed, mom."

"We should."  
Judy leaned in again and placed a kiss on Quinn's cheek.

"Sleep tight, honey."

She slipped out of the room and Quinn was alone. She sighed deeply and opened a drawer to find a t-shirt to wear to bed. The one on the top was large on her and of course it was his. She wondered when he had left it here. It smelled of her mother's own detergent so probably ages ago. She kept it on because it was clearly hers now. They divided their things up a year ago and he hadn't fought for this particular t-shirt. He hadn't really fought for anything. She hadn't either. They just grabbed random things and that's how she ended up with the TV but not the remote.

…

In the end of that terrible Fourth of July, she brought him to her house. Her mother was out and it was nearer the pavement where he had mumbled that he had loved her. She helped him off with his clothes, gave him a glass of water and then tucked him into her bed.

"Good night" she whispered although he was already asleep.

In the morning, she woken by the most horrible sound of all time; someone throwing up. Quinn hurried to find Puck with his head down the toilet. She kneeled next to him on the hard tile floor and forced herself not to puke herself.

"Morning" he coughed.

His words echoed strangely against the china toilet before bouncing back to her.

"How are you feeling?"  
"As I deserve, I guess."

He got unsteadily to his feet and washed his face in cold water. He looked pale and almost green.

"I don't think I've ever been that drunk before" he muttered.

"Yeah, you were pretty out of it. Do you remember anything?"  
She looked away as she said it, giving him a chance to lie if he wanted to. She understood what it was like to be drunk, how things could just slip out and be misunderstood. She got that. She wouldn't judge if he wanted to take it all back. _I hate it when we're not together because I'm in love with you_.

"I remember Kitty going on about a water bed and some fireworks and that's about it" he said.

She nodded.

"Yeah" she breathed. "I heard some of the water bed talk too."

She handed him a towel to dry his face. He had dark circles under his eyes, like shadows or traces of a fight. She wanted to patch him up and make him whole again. He might not remember being this drunk before, but she did. The night after he had found out that she was pregnant.

"I'm really sorry, Q" he said. "It's not your job to take care of me like I'm some fucking kid."

She shrugged.

"I do a lot of things that's not my job" she smiled.

He had come to her house back then, when they were both sixteen, and kept knocking at her window until she opened it. She remembered the hallow look in his eyes. Fear. She had felt it too and shut the window in his face.

"And that fucking Jesus staring down at me…."

"What?" she asked, realizing that she hadn't been listening to him.

"That fucking picture of Jesus on your wall. It freaks me out."

Quinn snorted.

"Grow up."

"Sure, if you first make me sandwich with peanut butter and cut the crust off."

She rolled her eyes.

"You're confusing me with your mother. Whom I called in the middle of the night, I might add, to tell her why you didn't come home. I guess I'm not her favorite person at the moment."

"'Course you are. She loves you to bits" Puck drawled.

"Shut up. I'll find you a shirt to wear. That one smells worse than your breath."  
He made an affronted noise but pulled the blue t-shirt over his head. She took it between the tips of her fingers and stuffed it into the washing machine. Even in this state, he looked amazing with his shirt off. He always had and she always hated that he knew it. She kept her eyes on his face. _I hate it when we're not together because I'm in love with you_.

"I'll make you a sandwich" she finally caved. "But if you won't eat it with the crust I'm kicking you out."

…

When Quinn arrived to Shelby's house, Puck's car was already in the drive way. Shelby opened and greeted her with a rather stiff hug. Adopting another woman's baby didn't automatically make you close.

"They're in the living room" she said as a 'hello'.

Quinn walked past her. She heard Puck's laugh, loud and jolly, and she thought that it was only Beth that made him laugh like that, like a father. She heard Beth's giggles too, soft and quiet and full of light. They both looked up as she stepped into the room.

"Hi" she said in a strangled voice.

Beth was eight and Quinn was twenty-four and for the first time there was some resemblance between them. Quinn noticed it at once but couldn't pin point what it was.

"Morning" Puck welcomed her.

"Hi" she replied.

Quinn swallowed back something in her throat and kneeled beside them on the soft rug. They were finishing a puzzle, a vast piece full of blue skies and green grass, that covered the entire coffee table.

"I love puzzles" she said quietly, even though she should probably ask Beth a polite question first.

"So does Beth" Puck sighed. "I'm the only one who doesn't get it."  
Beth giggled again. Quinn wished she could make her daughter laugh too. She wished she was funnier.

"Did your mom help you with this?" Quinn asked Beth.

Beth looked imploringly at her and then scowled slightly. Quinn looked away. Two minutes in and she had already done something wrong.

"I did, a little bit" Shelby said, walking into the living room and joining them.

"Only a little" Beth repeated because when you're eight it's important to show that you can do things yourself.

"Sorry girls, but I don't get it" Puck drawled, picked up a blue piece and tried to fit it between to green.

Beth giggled again. Quinn exhaled slowly. It was like she forgot between every birthday that this is what it was like, every year. Puck made jokes and Beth laughed and Shelby was proud and Quinn sat quiet and watched them. She wasn't part of it, not really. She didn't have a part to play. Both the mom and the dad parts were already filled.

"It's such a nice day" Shelby said. "Why don't you take Puck and Quinn with you to the park?"  
"The park is for babies" Beth told her mother condescendingly.

"What? I love parks" Puck said, feigning horror. "Am I a baby?"

Beth rolled her eyes (Quinn didn't know that eight year old could roll their eyes) but got to her feet, leaving the rest of the puzzle unfinished. Quinn wanted to stay inside and complete it. Puzzles she could understand and solve. You just had to find the right pieces and fit them together. It was life that was hard.

"Can you do a cartwheel, Beth?" Puck asked.

"No" she answered.

"Me neither. Quinn, however, Quinn is the queen of cartwheels. Maybe she can teach us."

Quinn met Puck's eyes. However how pissed she was at him for acting like an idiot yesterday, she was thankful for his attempts to pull her into the conversations. How he only spoke about her good traits in front of Beth and honestly tried to establish some kind of bond between them.

"Can you?" Beth asked.

Quinn took one last look at the puzzle. A picture of reality cut up into small pieces and spread out on the table. She could see some kind of metaphor in that.

"Well, I can't promise I can do anything for Puck… But you won't be hard to teach."

Beth beamed at her and Quinn felt warmth enfold her heart. Life was harder than a puzzle, than a game, but it made you feel so much better when you worked it out.

…

The deal was to only see Beth on her birthday and Puck and Quinn knew that. Shelby had told them that plenty of times and showed statistics on the internet and handed them pamphlets, so yeah, they knew. It would be confusing for Beth to see them too often; before she understood the situation completely. When she did, when she was old enough, she could decide for herself who she wanted to see.

"It can't be confusing if we see her and she doesn't see us, right?" Puck whispered.

"You can hardly be confused with something you don't know" Quinn agreed.

It was august and Quinn liked summer much better now. She liked summer more when it felt like the rest of the year, only warmer. Because she spent every day with him now, laying on a blanket in the park or drinking lemonade on her porch or swimming in someone else's pool that he was lazily cleaning.

"There she is" Puck said so quietly she barely heard him.

Quinn didn't see her at first, there were so many children playing in the garden. And she spotted a girl, climbing a tree, higher and higher until Mrs. Samuel yelled at her to come down. It was the first day that Shelby was back at work after the summer holidays. Beth was looked after one of moms who lived just across from Rachel's house, which gave them perfect opportunity to spy. Rachel's dads didn't mind, all they wanted to talk about was their daughter and a fresh pair of ears was probably a gift.

"She might fall" Quinn mumbled, not taking her eyes off Beth clutching the tree trunk like a koala.

"She won't."

"You don't know that."

"Look; I've climbed every fucking tree in this town. I'm an expert. She's holding tight and looking steady. She could be up there for hours."

There it was; another thing Puck and Beth had in common. Even if it wasn't a contest, Quinn could tell she was losing.

"Rachel told us about this movie you're making" one of Rachel's dads said. "About how you want to interview her."

"Yes" she said, somewhat distracted by the daughter in the tree.

"We just… don't want… you to… pour salt in her wounds" Hiram told her, ever so slowly.

Quinn finally looked away from Mrs. Samuel's garden. She opened her mouth to say that she wasn't pouring salt in Rachel's wounds, that Rachel seemed fine with it. Instead she just nodded; scared of conflict.

"I won't."

"She's a fragile girl" Leroy went on, very seriously.

"She's really not, though" Puck argued. "I mean, she's highly emotional and cries like twice a day, sure. But she's tough and frankly, I think you two have more issues with the Shelby thing than she has."

Quinn kicked his shins under the table, making him jump with pain. Rachel's father both considered him silently. Quinn went back to watching the tree. Mrs. Samuel had given up on Beth and gone inside.

"We feel no guilt for what we did" Leroy said rather sternly. "We wanted a child. That's not a crime."

"I'm not telling you to have guilt or whatever. I'm just saying, don't… I don't know the word. Quinn, a bit of help?"

"He thinks you're projecting your emotions onto her."  
"Yeah" Puck said. "Yeah, that's the word. Project."

Silence fell. Beth was alone in the tree; the other kids were playing tag on the lawn. Quinn wondered if Beth was bullied or left out. Or maybe she just liked sitting up there all day. Quinn could empathize with that.

"If you need parents in your documentary, Ms. Fabray" Hiram said finally. "You could interview us. That's what we wanted to tell you."

She looked up in surprise. The conversation had taken a different turn than she had expected.

"Thank you" she said. "I'll keep that in mind."

"And thank you, Noah, for you psych analysis of us" Leroy added tersely.

Puck shrugged.

"Anytime, dudes."

Rachel's fathers went inside to make lunch and left Puck and Quinn alone. Beth was still on her own too. It seemed ridiculous that they couldn't just go up to her.

"You shouldn't have offended them" Quinn said.

"I didn't, believe me, it's fine. We go way back, me and the Berry's, with us being like the only two Jewish families in this town."

"Bet they wanted you to marry Rachel then."

"Nah, they always wanted her to aim higher."

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. He was still squinting against the sun to watch Beth. The light on his face made him look younger. Or just more handsome. Gone was the gaunt look of the hang-over. The dark circles had melted away. He still hadn't mentioned anything about loving her. She hadn't either.

"Don't sell yourself short" she told him.

"Come on, Q, like your parents didn't say that too? Like yeah,_ it's really bad you're knocked up but at least it's that nice, white guy's_. And then, _nope, it's the brownish, Jewish dude with the deadbeat dad and no brains_."

She wished she hadn't kicked his leg that hard. She wished that her parents hadn't reacted exactly like that.

…

It took Quinn about an hour to teach Beth how to cartwheel and it was one of the most satisfying things she had done in a long time.

"Point your toes" she shouted. "Beth, point your toes and your legs will automatically become straight."

And Beth pointed her toes, in her baby blue sneakers, towards the equally blue sky and Puck shouted something in glee. Quinn clapped her hands. Even though she had quit cheerleading ages ago, when she mimicked Beth and cartwheeled, it was without breaking a sweat.

"You're better than me" Beth said, stating the facts.

"I've had more practice. This was basically all I did in High School."

"Shelby said you sung too. In a club."

_Shelby_? Since when did Beth not call Shelby _mom_? Quinn let it pass because she was leaving in like an hour and didn't want to ruin the mood.

"Yeah" Quinn said. "I sung with a bunch of kids and I cartwheeled on the football field."

"Can you sing?"

"No, not really. Not as well as Puck."

"Well, she sings better than I cartwheel" Puck interjected, placing one of his hands on her shoulder.

She smiled and Beth smiled back, the smile she usually saved for Puck. A real, honest smile that reached her dark eyes and there, there it was, Quinn saw herself in Beth's face in that very moment. Not the smile, the shape of her mouth she had inherited from the Puckerman side, but something else.

"I almost forgot" Quinn said, digging her purse. "I almost forgot to give you this. Happy Birthday, Beth."

She handed the parcel to Beth who held it between her small hands as if it was a white dove, ever so carefully, like she hadn't received a dozen of presents yesterday.

"Yeah" Puck said. "Happy Birthday. Sorry we couldn't be there yesterday."

Quinn had bought the gift because Quinn always bought the gifs. She had half-expected Puck to buy something too, but he evidently hadn't. She felt almost pleased about. And relieved that Karen hadn't been sent out to get something for their daughter.

"Thank you" Beth said softly.

The set of water colors had been expensive and Quinn had wondered if a kid really cared if the paint they drew with had good quality. However in the end, she had collected most of her tip money and bought the nicest set in the store. It had the deepest blue and lightest yellow and the brightest red.

"You're welcome."

There was a though behind it, of course. Quinn had this idea that Shelby would pressure Beth into music. She probably had Puck's genes for it and with a music teacher as your mother, she could only really turn out to be Rachel Berry's nemesis in a few years. Quinn wanted Beth to have options, she could do cheerleading if she wanted to, or be a math geek, or paint. Or all of it.

"Can we try them?"

Quinn nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

They walked the short way back to Shelby's house. It was nice, not as big as Quinn's, but then again, you didn't need much room when there were two of you. Puck and Quinn had spent three years in that one-bedroom-apartment in New Haven.

"Look what they gave me" Beth exclaimed.

Shelby found paper and brushes and filled a jar with water. Beth sat kneeled on the kitchen chair to reach. She drew an ocean with fishes and a boat. Quinn watched her small hands as they gripped the brush ever so carefully. It almost made her cry.

"Did you say thank you, Beth?" Shelby asked.

"I did."  
"She did" Quinn confirmed.

"Look, can I talk to you for a bit?" Puck asked Shelby.

They left the kitchen and Quinn knew he was about to ask if he could stick around and spend a bit more time with Beth.

"Can you draw?" Beth asked, just as she asked if Quinn could sing.

It was like she was filling out a mental form. Or maybe she was just curious.

"A little bit. Not as well as I can cartwheel though."

"Maybe I can be a cheerleader too now."  
"I bet you could."

Beth leaned forward and accidentally dipped the tips of her hair in green paint. Quinn removed the rubber band from her own hair and began to braid Beth's. For a second, she expected her daughter to flinch or shake her off, but she didn't. She sat calmly and painted a sun and a sky over that blue ocean.

"Quinn" Puck called from the hallway. "Quinn, it's noon. When is your bus leaving?"  
"_Shit_."

…

The summer ended. Puck got his paycheck for barely cleaning pools and bought them a new TV. Quinn signed up for new classes and searched for pregnant girls online. She got invited to some Yale junior gala and brought Puck as her date because he had laughed so hard at the word _gala_. They got drunk on expensive wine and had to go the restroom during the dean's speech because they couldn't stop giggling.

"They're going to kick you out" Puck hissed, as he bent over in laughter.

"They're not."

Her dress was too tight; it made her feel like couldn't breathe. The dress was her mother's old dress, long and sparkly and gorgeous, but too small and crammed her ribs. Evidently she had gained weight since she wore it last.

"How did Marie Antoinette stand corsets?" she wondered aloud as she tried to catch her breath.

"Who?"

"Queen of France. They cut her head off."

"Maybe corsets weren't her biggest problem then."  
"Probably not."

"You know this is the men's restroom, right? Girls aren't supposed to be here."  
She shrugged.

"It's fine. No one's going to leave during that boring speech."

"We did."  
"We're drunk."

She giggled again, even though it wasn't funny. Her face was hot and red and her eyes glistened with something; maybe happiness.

"Zip me down, will you?" she begged him.

"Are you coming on to me?"  
She rolled her eyes at her own reflection.

"I need to breath for five minutes and I can't reach the zipper."  
"You could have just asked me out" he teased her.

She thought of those drunken words _I hate it when we're not together because I'm in love with you_. She was almost drunk enough to confront him about them, but was distracted by his hands on the bare skin of her back and the relief in being able to breathe again.

"Thanks" she exhaled.

"If that gets you off, you should wait for…"

"Shut up" she cut across him.

He winked at her. He was wearing the same suit he always wore to things like this, to prom and graduation and now every time she brought him to events like this. It wasn't a designer suit and she could see it fraying a bit at the seams, but it didn't matter. He looked good in it. Strong. Or maybe that was just wine.

"God, why did I even agree to this?" Puck sighed dramatically.

"Yeah, why did you?" she asked.

She could still feel how cool his fingertips had felt against her hot back. It gave her shivers, just thinking about it.

"You asked" he shrugged.

"You could have said no."

"I didn't want to."

She turned to look at him and he looked at her and she felt like this, this is was the moment to bring those words up. She opened her mouth. And then someone opened the door. She flung around to stand face to face with Henry.

"Whoa" Puck said. "Sorry dude. I'll get the lady out."

"Your dressed is unzipped, Quinn" Henry said in a cold voice.

"It's too tight" Quinn explained because she was drunk and not smart enough to just run.

"You know this guy?" Puck asked.

"You could say that."

She fumbled with her hands behind her back, trying to hold the fabric together to at least shield her bra from view.

"Don't look at me like that" she snapped at Henry and his condescending face. "You had sex with me in worse places than this."

"You're the pervy professor?" Puck asked astonished. "You're much less nerdy than I imagined."

"You two should get out of here" Henry said in his most professor-like voice. "Before someone catches you."

"Someone already did" Quinn commented but she grabbed Puck's hand and pulled him out.

The boring speech was over and people had started mingling. Some turned their heads at them. Quinn didn't care; tomorrow she might, but not now. She held his hand as they ran onto the parking lot. They just kept running. She never wanted to stop. The night was warm and humid and felt like it was made for running in. The only thing louder than their feet against the asphalt was the sound of her heart beating in her chest.

…

"Welcome to Al's, how can I help you?"

"Hi Al, it's Quinn."

"Quinn?"  
"Yeah, the waitress who has been working for you for a year."

"The blonde or the one with boobs?"  
Quinn sighed.

"The blonde one."

"Right" her boss Al said slowly.

He was in his fifties and the grossest man she had ever met. Her entire job interview had consisted of him staring her breasts and making rude comments about _getting her hands dirty_.

"I'm supposed to work Monday night, but I'm stuck in my hometown. It's a long story… I can't get hold of Shona or Jessie to take my shift."

"Right" he said again, just a slowly.

Quinn tapped impatiently with her foot against the floor in Beth's bedroom.

"Shona had her baby" Al said finally.

"Oh, that's… great."

"And Jessie quit."

"Really?"  
Jessie had going on about quitting for months. She wanted to be on Broadway, not serve fries to drunks at three in morning. Quinn had sympathized but then again, no one who worked at Al's wanted to work there.

"I really need you in."

"I'm sorry but I'm stuck here. The earliest I can be in the city is Tuesday morning."

"Your shift starts on Monday night."  
"I know, I know. That's why I'm calling you."

It was a wonder that Al's was still up and running, considering that its manager was a moron.

"You have to get someone new to replace Jessie, right? Just make her take my shift. I'll trade with her later."

"You want time off?"

"No. I'll be there on Tuesday as usual."

He stayed quiet for too long. She sighed.

"I don't know, Blondie. You have to tell me in advance if you want time off…"

"Come on, Al. I've worked non-stop for a year, always taking other people's shifts and never even a sick day."

She listened to him breathing heavily for about a minute and a half.

"I don't know" he began and she snapped.

"Fine. I quit then."  
"Wha-"

"Good luck finding someone who'll cover for Shonda every time her husband has fallen asleep at the bar or Paul's gone _missing_."

"Come on, Blondie…"  
"It's Quinn."  
And she hung up. She stood panting among Beth's toys for almost five minutes. Quitting the only stable thing in her life probably wasn't the best plan ever. But despite that, it felt wonderful. She rejoined the others in the kitchen. Beth had drawn a heart on Puck's arm, like a tattoo. Like wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Fine" she lied (or didn't. she _did_ feel fine.)

…

Alisha was seventeen and seven months pregnant. She had lovely dark hair that almost brushed against her lower back and too much mascara. Quinn wanted to protect her in some way, but she had no idea how. Puck sat down next to Quinn behind the camera. She wanted to tell him how grateful she was that he was here, but didn't know how to do that either.

"Can you please tell me your name and age?" she asked Alisha gently. "So that we can test if the sound is working."

Alisha sat up straighter on Quinn's couch (she hadn't wanted to do the interview at home in fear of what her father might say) and cleared her throat. She sat poised like a queen, with a collected face and no sign of shame. Quinn admired her.

"My name is Alisha Davies. I'm seventeen."

Quinn nodded. The small microphone she had attached to Alisha's blouse was working. The camera was rolling. They were officially ready.

"When did you find out you were pregnant?" Quinn asked, consulting her notes.

"Four months ago. I was late and you know… It's not brain surgery to count backwards."

The girl spoke without changing her facial expression. Her eyes were fixed on the camera; not moving an inch.

"Since you had unprotected sex?"

"Yes."

"What do you like to do, Alisha?" Quinn asked, discarding all her pre-written questions because she needed to see some kind of real emotion, not for the film but for herself. She wanted to see that Alisha was fine, that she hadn't cracked.

"I like to read" Alisha shrugged.

"What was the last book you read?"

"I can't remember. I don't have time to read anymore. I'm trying to get my GED before the baby comes."

Quinn closed her eyes. It was naïve of her to try to find anything else there. This pregnancy had messed up this girl's entire life. Just like it had for Quinn.

"Who is the baby's father?" she asked instead, steeling herself.

She felt Puck move slightly next to her.

"The guy who used to be my boyfriend. I don't think he wants me to use his name."

"That's fine."

"He broke up with me before I found out I was pregnant. And yeah…"

"He wasn't happy to find out about the pregnancy?"  
"No… But neither was I" Alisha said and for the first time real emotion shone through the mask. "I – I wasn't exactly happy myself."

"And how do you feel now?"

Alisha switched her gaze to Quinn. Her eyes were dry and still Quinn got the feeling that she was crying.

"This isn't wasn't life was supposed to be like."

Alisha opened her mouth to add something else but Quinn's phone was vibrating in her pocket. She checked the display; it read ANNA, the name of another girl she had contacted about participating in this film. A girl who had already given up her kid for adoption and therefore an attractive angle.

"I have to take this" she told Alisha. "Give me the three minutes."

"Sure."

"Puck, can you get her some water or something?"  
"Sure."  
She mouthed _thanks _and hurried her bedroom to answer Anna's call.

Later, after Alisha had left and Puck had gone for a run, Quinn downloaded the file from the expensive video camera that Yale had loaned her onto her computer. She plugged her headphones in and lay down on her bed to watch the whole thing. This was not the time for editing; she just wanted to see what it all looked like. She watched herself turn on the light and the sound and placing the microphone on Alisha's shirt. She watched Alisha answer her questions while staring fixedly at the camera and therefor, right at Quinn now. She watched herself leave with her phone pressed to her ear. Quinn was just about to skip forward a few minutes when Puck spoke.

"You want water?" he asked, placed close enough to the camera that he didn't need a microphone.

"I'm fine. Did she switch the camera off?"

"Yeah, I think so."  
She had averted her eyes now, looking her feet instead. She wore pink converse.

"You don't have to do this, you know" Puck said in a soft voice. "She can find someone else."

"I want to do it."

"Quinn said that your father won't approve."

"He doesn't approve of anything. Not before the pregnancy and especially not now."

Puck got up and brought her water anyway. Quinn thought that this was things she would want to have in the documentary; real emotion. In the future, she would have to employ Puck to work his people person magic before she even entered the room.

"Quinn's dad didn't exactly approve either" he told Alisha and Quinn hated him for telling someone her story. "Kicked her out on the street."

"She had a baby?"

"Yeah. She didn't tell you?"

"No."

Quinn hadn't. Because it wasn't relevant. Documentaries was about being objective.

"Was it your baby?" Alisha asked, looking up from the shoes.

"Yeah" Puck answered.

"You gave her up for adoption?"

"Yeah" he repeated.

"Why? I mean, you stuck together… You could have kept it. You could have been a real family."

Alisha's voice was hard and demanding. She scowled at Puck. Quinn couldn't see his expression; he was behind the camera; but she could picture him trying to cover up the hurt.

"We weren't together then. And we're not together now. And besides, that's not the point. We were just kids."

Alisha picked up the glass of water and emptied it in one gulp. She dried her mouth off with the back of her hand. Quinn thought of that and the pink converse and despite the posture and coldness, Alisha was still a child too.

"What do you mean you're not together? You live here, right?"

"It's complicated. Believe me."

Alisha's scuffed.

"Brandon hasn't spoken to me since he found about the kid. And you stayed with her, even though she doesn't love you. Guess I really picked the wrong guy."

"It's not like that" he argued.

"I'm not a kid. Explain it."

"I don't have to" he said, sounding like a child too.

"I'm about to tell my life story so that your girlfriend can get a good grade" Alisha snapped. "The least you can do is humor me."

Quinn wondered if she should stop looking. They had never intended for her to take part in this conversation. She was eavesdropping but she really needed Puck to explain the situation to her too. _I hate it when we're not together because I'm in love with you_.

"She goes to school here. I've traveled around between all of my friends. Now I'm here for a little while."

"Where's your suitcase?"

"I unpacked it."

"How long have you stayed with her?"

Puck was quiet and Alisha raised an eyebrow at him. Quinn wondered how desperate she was to talk about _anything _but herself.

"A while" he said finally.

"And how long have you been in love with her?"

"A while" he replied again.


	5. and ask me your questions

Quinn took the train to New York and lay down on Rachel/Kurt/Santana's couch. She closed her eyes, listened to Rachel practicing an aria for school, Kurt burning something on the stove and Santana talking loudly about something concerning crabs. For once it was nice to be around people. People were distracting. She couldn't keep a train of thought in this apartment; it was too loud and not enough walls.

"So, you coming with us?" Santana asked.

She was wearing a tight dress and red lipstick. Quinn was about to shake her head; she wasn't really in the mood for trying to get into a club in the woolen cardigan and cotton dress that she had on.

"Yeah, sure" she answered despite that.

She shared a bottle of wine with Santana on the endless subway ride from Brooklyn. The thoughts in her head seemed to drift even farther away. The club was loud and played horrible music and Quinn looked very odd in her tights and pleated dress. She didn't care. She drank some drinks that a guy bought for her and then threw up in the bathroom. Santana held her hair.

"You feeling okay?" she asked.

"I want to go home" Quinn whispered because now the lack of thoughts in her head was making her stupid and scared.  
"Okay. I'll just find Rachel and tell that we're leaving."

"You don't have to go."

"Yeah, I do. I don't want to be the one to have to call your mom when you get murdered."

Quinn held onto Santana's hand as they walked out into the New York City night. She really wanted to go back to New Haven, to her apartment with Puck's pasta and him playing the guitar. She felt unsafe here; out of her comfort zone.

"What made you come here anyway?" Santana asked as they tried to flag down a cab.

Quinn didn't answer. She stared at the wet asphalt and tried to fight the urge to lie down on it. She regretted coming here tonight. She regretted leaving home.

"Do you think Puck loves me?" she asked bluntly.

Santana raised an eyebrow.

"So that's why you came. You're freaking out."

"Just answer the question."

A cab stopped for them but refused to drive them to Brooklyn. Quinn wondered if they were ever going to get back to the loft.

"Of course he does" Santana replied the question Quinn had asked several minutes earlier.

"How do you know?"

"I asked him."

"You asked him?"

"Yeah."

Quinn exhaled slowly, fighting to find her brain amongst all the alcohol.

"He told me that he was in love with me this summer. But he was drunk and I don't think he even remembers it now."

Santana lit a cigarette. Quinn didn't even know that she smoked. She got a sudden urge to smoke too.

"And then, he told someone else today. I just happened to hear it… and he told someone, a complete stranger that he loved me."

"So you freaked out."

"I'm not freaking out."

"You just threw up. You never get that drunk."

Quinn took the cigarette from Santana. It made her cough and her head spin, but that was fine, her head was already spinning.

"It can't be a surprise, Q" Santana said. "He's lived with you for like forever."

"He lived with you too."

"Talk to him about it" Santana urged her.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. But you have to realize that he will be bluntly honest with you if you ask him; he won't lie."

A soft drizzle started to fall down on them. Quinn was grateful for a distraction. She looked up and got water in her eyes. She blinked it away like it was tears.

"He doesn't lie" Quinn whispered in agreement.

In the end, they all crashed on some friend of Kurt's floor but Quinn couldn't fall asleep. She picked up her phone and called him.

"Where the fuck have you been all night?" he answered, sounding exhausted and angry and relieved.

"I'm in New York with Santana. Can you come and pick me up?"

…

Quinn couldn't sleep. It had been a long first day home. She sighed and got out of bed. She went downstairs to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. She drank it on couch and turned the TV on, eager to watch something about dictatorships in other countries on _The History Channel_ to get sleepy. To her disappointment, her mother had chosen not to pay extra to get any of the channels that played those kinds of documentaries at three in the morning. Quinn sighed and squatted down on the floor to pick a movie to watch from the slim selection. Her father had evidently taken most of the action movies with him and left Judy with basically "Notting Hill" and Disney movies. Quinn was just about to choose "The Lion King" when she spotted a blank DVD case. She picked up and she knew immediately what it contained.

"Mom" she called from the end of Judy's bed.

Her mother sat up with a jolt and looked at her with sleepy eyes.

"What?" she asked. "What's the time, Quinn?"

"Who gave you this?"  
Quinn held up the white case in front of her mother's face. Judy squinted.

"What is it?"

"You didn't want a copy of my documentary. I asked you and you said no because it would be too hard."

Judy grabbed the case and opened it. Inside lay a scrap of paper that she handed to her daughter. Quinn read by the light of the moon.

_Quinn told me that you didn't want to see this, but I think you should. It's not about us; but it sort of is anyway. And it's really great. You should be proud. – Puck._

"He gave you this?" she asked, even though the evidence was in her hand.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He wrote it on that note, honey."

Quinn reread it. She took out the disc and held it between her fingers like it was something precious. Maybe it was, to her at least. Making this film had changed her life in so many ways.

"Did you watch it?" she asked.

Judy nodded.

"Yes."

"What did you think?"

"It… It broke my heart."

Quinn gave her a little smile.

"I guess that's sort of the point."

Judy nodded again. She looked fragile with her hair messed up and no makeup. Quinn wondered how much she had had to drink today. How much she had every day. If she was lonely.

"I haven't seen it in ages" Quinn confessed. "I would probably cringe if I did."

"Do you want to watch it with me?"

Quinn bit her lip. She nodded.

"Yes, I really do."

She clambered into bed next to her mother, on the side that used to be her father's. Judy inserted the DVD in her player and pressed play.

"It's just fifteen minutes long" Quinn reminded her mother.

"I know."

"I made it college. I've seen tons of better stuff."

"I'm sure you have" Judy said soothingly. "But I haven't."

…

At four in the morning, she got into his car. She hadn't even looked in the mirror since earlier that evening and could smell her own puke in her hair. He looked like shit too, tired and cranky.

"I'm sorry" she began. "I shouldn't have called."  
"Stop it" he replied. "I told you that I would come and get you any time. This is any time."

She could tell that he was frustrated with her. He stared straight forward and listened to angry music that made her head ache. She didn't complain because he had driven out to get her. After that, she couldn't whine about anything.

"I called you" he said. "Like a hundred times."

"I'm sorry."

"You could at least have left a note."  
"I know. I just… wanted to go so I went. I didn't think."

He didn't say anything. She wished she could offer to drive but she was still drunk and could hardly keep her eyes open.

"You don't do crap like this" he said. "You always answer your phone. You always tell me when you're going somewhere. You never to things on a whim."  
She realized that that was true. And how worried he must have been. She watched his hands grabbing the steering wheel so hard it actually trembled slightly.

"I'm sorry" she said instead.

"What made you freak out?"

"I didn't freak out" she told him.

"Right" he said slowly, making it clear that he didn't believe her.

He never lied and she felt like it was all she ever did. And she was sick of it.

"I forgot to shut the camera off" she said.

It was a simple phrase but it meant that she was taking Santana's advice. _Just ask him_. What was the worst thing that could happen? She didn't want to think about it.

"What?"  
"When I was taping Alisha and I had to take the phone call. I didn't shut the camera off."

"Okay" he said calmly.

"You told her that you loved me."

"Yeah, guess I did."

"And this summer, at that Fourth of July party, you told me that you were in love with me."

"I did?"

"You don't remember?"  
"No."

"Oh."

She studied her nails, expecting him to say something. He didn't.

"So…" she began.

"What are you asking me, Quinn?" he sighed.

"Is it true? Do you love me?"

He was still staring straight forward and it gave her guts to look at him. Or maybe it was alcohol leftovers in her system that gave her the courage. She stared at his face and wondered how someone like him could still love someone like her; despite everything she had done.

"Yes" he answered.

He didn't blush or blink or twitch. He just said it, plainly, simply and even though it was only three letters it made the world spin again, worse than before, like she had smoke a hundred cigarettes.

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"You can't ask why someone loves you."

"No, I mean; why didn't you tell me?" she mumbled. "Why did you tell everyone but me?"

"Because I know you" he replied. "Because I know you would do something like this; freak out and leave."

"I'm here" she reminded him. "I'm not running away now."

He didn't respond. She didn't say anything either. What could she say? What did she want to say?

"You're scared" he said, breaking the silence after a few minutes. "That's fine. We're all scared of things."

"I'm not scared" she lied.

"You're scared of things that matter. That's why you don't go home anymore and why you don't stay in contact with your old friends. Instead you make new ones here that you secretly despise. That's why you don't sing anymore or do cheerleading and why you don't go to church anymore. You're scared of things that actually make you feel something."

"That's not true" she lied again, even though she vowed to stop doing so.

"Isn't it? Isn't it why you don't want to see Beth? Because she makes you feel things and you hate to feel things. Because caring can hurt you if it goes bad?"

"Stop it."

"I don't why you're like this. Maybe it was because your dad was a dick or because of Beth or because of your car accident. I don't know. I don't really care either" Puck went on. "I just didn't want you to leave; to freak out and panic. I love you and I want to be around you. If that meant never telling you the truth, well that was better than losing you all together."

She closed her eyes. A mixture of fury and humiliation burned in her throat. She hated that he knew her so well. That was the backside of letting people into your life.

"I told you that I loved you after Beth was born; don't you remember?" he continued, his voice a bit softer now. "I told you that I loved you; that I loved you for a long time and even more in that moment. You smiled – and then didn't talk to me for a year. I didn't want that to happen again."

She nodded. He loved her. She was a freak. She got it. She got all of it.

"Sorry I didn't leave a note" she whispered.

"It's okay" he replied.

The sun was up and the light was too bright for Quinn's eyes as Puck parked the car. She was sleepy and drained and hung-over and cold. Her dress hadn't entirely dried since the fall of rain. Puck seemed just as tired. She wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all last night.

"We'll talk about this later" he said as she unlocked the door to the apartment.

"Fine."

She took his hand. He looked down at it; confused by the touch.

"Come sleep with me" she said or asked, she was too exhausted to tell.

He didn't resist. She pulled him into her bedroom and got into bed. He hesitated before getting in next to her.

"Quinn…" he began.

"Tomorrow" she interrupted. "Let's just sleep."

…

Shelby had agreed for them to spend more time with Beth and therefore Puck and Quinn were there to pick her up from school. They stood outside the school gates together with the other parents; waiting. It meant something; something big. Quinn thought that this could have been her daily life, if she had chosen differently.

"When's Karen coming?" she asked instead.

"Tonight" he replied. "Did you actually quit your job?"

"I guess" she sighed.

She didn't really want to talk about that and clearly Puck didn't want to talk about Karen. As a relief, they spotted Beth walking towards them. She carried a yellow lunchbox in her left hand and her jacket in the left. She smiled as they reached them.

"Hi kid" Puck greeted her.

"Hi" Beth said.

They headed for Puck's car. Quinn asked about homework (they had math and science for tomorrow) and Puck carried her lunchbox. Beth sang along the radio and talked about her friend Moira who was going to Japan during the holidays and about some field trip they were taking. Quinn watched her in the rear view mirror. _She could have been ours_ she thought. And it hurt and felt good at the same time.

"Where are we going?" Beth asked.

"To Quinn's house" Puck answered. "You'll like it. It's very fancy."

"Moira has a fancy house."  
"Well, I bet you anything that Quinn's is fancier."

"Are you rich?" Beth asked bluntly.

Quinn laughed. It continued to feel like Beth had this form that she filled out with information about them.

"Not anymore. My dad is rich, but he doesn't live with us anymore."

"My mom's not rich" Beth told them.

"Mine neither, kid" Puck sighed dramatically.

Quinn shook her head at them with a smile on her face. She never wanted this car trip to end. She wanted Puck to keep driving forever; round and round and round Lima until they all got dizzy. It was such a bittersweet feeling having Beth with them and for once, Quinn felt more of the sweet side than the bitter.

"Moira's dad is a lawyer."

"Well, Quinn's dad is an asshole" Puck yawned. "That pays better."  
Quinn elbowed him in the ribs and laughed and forgot about Karen and the mistake she made a year ago. _She could have been ours_. _She's not but she could have been. _

"Here we are."  
They got out of the car and Quinn showed them into her mother's home. Puck made his (in)famous pasta with meat sauce that they ate in garden. The tasted of too much ketchup and had not enough seasoning but it gave Quinn flashes of memories of all the other times that Puck had made her this dish.

"Why aren't you together anymore?" Beth asked suddenly.

Puck and Quinn both looked up and at her. Quinn opened her mouth but had no idea what to respond.

"We…" she began. "How…"

"You didn't leave together yesterday" Beth explained. "And you don't _touch _anymore."

Quinn avoided Puck's eyes. She didn't want to think about Karen just now. Karen had no place with them, Puck and Quinn and Beth. No Karen. Not ever.

"It doesn't matter" she said. "What matters is _you_."

It sounded like a very grown up thing to say.

"And Puck has a new girlfriend now" she went on, to punish herself, to get herself out of this bubble.

It wasn't healthy to forget the real world; it only hurt twice as much when reality caught up.  
Puck shifted next to her. She ignored him, not helping him to get out of this one. Beth frowned.

"What's her name?" Beth asked.  
"Karen" Puck replied.

"Karen is a stupid name."

Quinn couldn't have agreed more.

…

She woke up before him and rolled over to look at him. Their legs touched under the covers. She wanted to reach out and touch him; invite him in for real. But she was afraid of what that would lead to. Quinn wondered what would happen now. She wondered if he would sleep here, in her bed, from now on. That wouldn't be so bad. That wouldn't be so bad at all.

"Morning" he grunted, covering his eyes with his hands.

Quinn's hair still smelt like puke. She was still wearing the same dress as yesterday and the taste in her mouth was of something dead.

"You shouldn't love me" she told him.

He let out a deep sigh while dropping his hands to look at her.

"Tell me something I don't know" he smiled.

She sat up in bed, crossing her legs under her, so that she wasn't on the same level as him. She needed space for this.

"I'm still here" she said. "I'm not freaking out."

"I know" he acknowledged softly.

"Just tell me; how can you love me?"  
He sighed again.

"You can't ask me that."

"Why not?"

"I don't know why I love you."

"Right."  
He extended a hand and touched the bare skin of her thigh. She shuddered as his hot hand touched her cool skin.

"You love me too" he whispered. "I know you love me too or you wouldn't have let me stay here for all this time. And you wouldn't have ditched Henry. And you wouldn't have invited me to sleep in your bed if you didn't."

She focused on his lips. How they parted and closed. She tried to ignore his words; to keep calm; to stop her heart from racing.

"And it probably scares you like hell" he went on. "But here's the thing; it scares everyone. Love is the scariest shit in the world."

His hand found hers and he pulled her back down on her back. His face was so close to hers now.

"What happens when I mess it up?" she asked. "I always mess things up."

"I thought I was the one who always ruined things" Puck said.

"No, it's me. I've ruined every relationship I've ever been in."

"Well, so have I."

She knew that he was just being nice. He might be reckless and sometimes an idiot; but she was the destructive one. Everything she touched turned into dust.

"Do you want to be with me?" he asked her.

She looked into his eyes; the nicest eyes she had ever known. She didn't deserve him.

"Yes" she admitted.

"Then I won't let you mess it up; I promise."

She nodded as he pressed his lips against her forehead.

"I need to take a shower" she told him. "I smell like vomit."

"I don't care."

He kissed her; their first kiss in years. She turned her face away. She didn't want their first kiss to taste like morning breath and hung-overs.

"I need to at least brush my teeth" she insisted.

He sighed.

"I don't care" he repeated.

"I know. I do, though."

She took a long shower and washed her hair until it only smelled like apples. She brushed her teeth and used mouthwash. Then she went back to bed. He had fallen asleep. She lay down next to him.

"I love you too" she whispered.

…

They sat in his car outside Shelby after bringing Beth back. Quinn watched Shelby doing the dishes in the kitchen; turning her head around to say something to her their daughter. _Their _daughter. Sort of.

"I'm not going to take Karen to visit Beth" he said.

"Good."

"Why does it sound like you hate my girlfriend even though you've never actually met her?" he asked tiredly.

"Guess once."

"I'm just going to remind you again that it was you who broke up with me."

"I know."

She saw Shelby leave the kitchen and turn the lights off. They could borrow Beth at times, but really, she wasn't theirs. Quinn had known that for eight years and still she didn't really get it.

"Karen's nice."

"I'm sure."

"You're probably not her favorite person either, considering… everything. But it would really mean a lot to me if you made an effort to like her."

Quinn turned to look at him. His face was pleading. If he had asked her to be nice to Karen, she would have agreed. But _like her_. Quinn would never like Karen on principle.

"Why?" she asked. "Why does it matter?"

"I care what you think."

"Why?" she repeated.

"You and me… I don't know… You were my life for so long and I lo..."

"Stop it" she said sternly, regretting that she had asked. "Please. Just don't."

He nodded and turned the ignition. With the lights out, they couldn't see anything inside the house anymore. It was time to go home.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Sure."

"I'm serious. You can tell me."

"I'm fine."

"Okay, I know you're not fine, because I know you and your entire face is passive and your tone is apathetic. The only time you sound alive is when you're with Beth."

"Let's just don't" she tried.

She turned up the music, even though it was Van Halen and she hated Van Halen more than life itself.

"I know you're just being nice" she told him. "But that's not your job anymore."

He swallowed.

"I do a lot of things that aren't my job" he commented and she had weird feeling he was quoting her.

He touched her knee and she flinched.

"We had a good day today" he said softly. "You and me and Beth. Right?"  
She nodded.

"Yes."

"I won't take Karen to see Beth yet. Maybe not ever, but if I will, I'll ask for your opinion first."

"Why don't you hate me?" she cut across him, getting tired with this act of niceness.

"Hate yo-"

"I ruined everything. I messed it up and you act like you don't care."

He parked outside her house. Van Halen was singing about jumping for love or something. She had a faint memory of singing this song when she was pregnant and bloated and _young_.

"I was mad at you, livid actually, for months" Puck told her. "But… what's the point?"

"Does everything have a point?" she asked because nothing in her life seemed to have a point.

He didn't answer. She wondered if he wanted her to get out of the car.

"I could never hate you" he mumbled. "Never ever. That's my problem."

She got out of the car and thought that she could never hate him either. That was _her _problem. That and the fact that she couldn't stop loving him either.

…

He woke up eventually and made her breakfast even though it was three in the morning. She sat on the kitchen counter and watched his hands crack eggs and stir milk and chop vegetables. Something about that made her want to touch him, take him by the hand and lead him back to bed.

"Hey" he said softly. "I might cut myself if you keep looking at me like that."

She blushed and blinked to focus her eyes on something else. He put the knife down and placed his hands on her waist. Her face was on level with his. He lifted her down from the counter. She kissed his neck, light kisses against his skin. She felt him shudder with pleasure. She never wanted to anything else than make him shudder with pleasure.

"You make me so happy" he mumbled against her hair.

Joy and fear fought inside her. One part wanted to whisper back that he made her happy too, the happiest she had ever been. The other part wanted to pull away, to tell him that they should pretend nothing had happened. She was terrified of losing him, of making him leave her. Going backwards was better than going off the road.

"Your eggs are burning."

"I can make new ones."

He found her mouth and kissed her. He entangled his hands in her hair and laughed when his fingers got stuck. He lifted her back onto the counter and kissed her and kissed her until she forgot to breathe.

"How is this going to work?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

She didn't actually know what she meant. There were so many things about this that scared her and equally many things that elated her, and she just needed to get all the facts down to understand it.

"Do you want to stay here?"

"Yes. Do you want me to stay?"  
"Yes."

"Good."

He kissed her again. This was where they were different. Puck lived his life, he didn't plan or worry. He just jumped head first into new things. Quinn was always scared, always tentative, and always afraid of things turning bad.

"Relax" he whispered. "Nothing is going to change. I'll even keep sleeping on the couch if that's what you want. Small steps."

"I just don't understand how you can love me…" she began.

He cut across her.

"Everything doesn't have a logical explanation. I know that you're not your own biggest fan and maybe that clouds your judgment. But if you try to ask me one more time why I love you..."

He trailed off and didn't finish the ultimatum because she got the point. There was no gain in trying to analyze this. He was too good for her, kind and gentle and wonderful. And despite that, he loved her, wanted to be with her.

"What do we tell people?" she asked instead. "This isn't High School; we can't just appear in Glee Club, hand in hand."

Puck laughed. He looked relieved that she had changed the subject.

"Well, frankly, most people probably think we're already like married, you know, considering the whole baby and living together thing."

"Who thinks that?"  
Puck shrugged.

"I don't know. People." he said nonchalantly. "I never bothered correcting them."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Why not?"

"Nah, I always reckoned it would be true someday and they were just a little ahead of time."

…


	6. come back and haunt me

Karen had long, auburn hair and a gap between her teeth and spoke with a thick Boston accent. She looked self-assured and confident. Accomplished. Everything Quinn wasn't.

"I hate her too" Hannah whispered in Quinn's ear.

"I don't hate her" Quinn lied or didn't lie or whatever.

"I didn't want her here. This is my graduation party, I should get to decide."

"You already had your graduation party, Han. This one is just so Puck can pretend he was a part of it."

Puck's baby sister clearly wasn't a baby anymore. She was going off to college in the fall; the first of the Puckerman's to do so. Mrs. Puckerman was proud and weepy today even though they had already had the real graduation a few weeks ago.

"I just don't like her" Hannah mumbled.

"You should try" Quinn insisted faintly. "Puck seems to like her."

She couldn't keep her tone neutral and Hannah grinned. Her smile was exactly the same as Puck's. It was as if someone had duplicated their grins.

"He would rather be with you."

"No, he wouldn't, Han."

"Well, I would rather he was."

Quinn draped her arm around Hannah's shoulders and squeezed. It consoled her that it didn't matter how pretty or smart or successful Karen was, Puck's family would never let her take Quinn's place.

"I should go and say hi" Quinn sighed. "I promised to be nice."

With Hannah at her side she approached Puck's girlfriend. She was checking her phone and didn't look up until they stood right in front of her.

"Karen, this is Quinn" Hannah introduced. "I don't think you've met."

Clearly Karen had no warm feelings for Quinn, understandably, and as they shook hands both their gazes were cold.

"Nice to meet you" Quinn lied.

"You too" Karen lied, equally skilled.

Hannah got pulled away by someone who wanted to take picture and then they were alone. Quinn was just about to raise her glass and leave. She could be polite but that was it. She had no plan of chatting about the weather with this girl.

"So you're the one who's been screwing my boyfriend" Karen asked or assumed.

Quinn just stared at her. She was making a grimace and looked evil and mean and Quinn wondered if Puck's type was cruel girls.

"Oh, how great, you two finally met" Mrs. Puckerman swooped in, saving Quinn from having to answer.

"Yes" Karen said, her face sweet again now. "It's terrific to finally meet the famous Quinn."

Elisabeth Puckerman laid a hand on the small of Quinn's back, a motherly gesture that made Quinn breathe out in relief. She couldn't understand why Karen intimidated her so when no other mean girl had done so. She hated no having the upper hand.

"Quinn, honey, can you do me a favor?" Puck's mother asked. "There's more coke in the fridge. Can you grab some?"

"Sure."

Quinn escaped Karen and the sun and went inside. She hadn't been inside Puck's house in a year. Not much had changed in that time. Frankly not much had changed since she lived here back while being pregnant. Mrs. Puckerman still seemed to love pictures of flowers and crochet cushions and had still not bought new curtains.

"Mom sent you in to fetch something?"

Quinn turned her head to see Puck stacking cookies onto a plate. He was wearing a nice shirt that almost looked ironed. She wondered if Karen had done it for him.

"Drinks" she replied hoarsely.

She opened the fridge and was relieved by the coolness that welled over her.

"I've never seen her this proud in my life" he said. "I don't know how many times she said the word _college _since we came back."

Quinn smiled.

"I know" she said. "But you know, she's still proud of you too."

"Yeah, but it's not the same."

Quinn nodded because she understood to some extent. Frannie, her own sister, was married to an investment banker and already had two kids. Judy loved talking about that.

"I've been thinking about finally getting that teaching degree" Puck said, shyly.

Quinn looked up.

"You are?"  
"Yeah, I mean, I love teaching. And you know, a piece of paper proving that I'm certified wouldn't hurt."

"That's great, Puck" she said and really meant it.

"Well, it won't be Yale or anything. Probably just night classes at the community college…"

"Not everyone has to go to Yale."  
"Nope" he grinned. "Just you."

She shrugged.

"And look where it got me, unemployed, back in my hometown, living with my mom."

He stepped closer, obviously done with stacking the cookies. He took the bottle of coke from her and she wished he hadn't because she needed something to hold on to. She had no idea what to do with her hands now.

"I get that things are shit now" he began. "I get that. But I still think that you try again, to get another job doing what you love."

She stared into his eyes and remembered how safe she had always felt while being around him. He had been her safe haven and Kevlar shield. How she had survived this year without him she didn't know.

"And Quinn?" he said. "Could you… not tell anyone about the degree thing? I just… don't want anyone to know about it yet. If it doesn't work out."

"Of course" she promised and hesitated for a second. "Does Karen know?"  
He bit his lip which was what he did when he didn't want to tell the truth but not lie either. Puck didn't lie.

"No" he admitted. "Not yet."

"Okay" she whispered. "Okay."

He opened his mouth to say something but some aunt bustled into the kitchen, demanding more chocolate chip cookies and the moment was over and Quinn felt like fainting.

…

Quinn had half-expected him to change his mind over the coming weeks. She was almost sure that he was would have change of heart and pack his bags and leave. But he didn't. And life continued mostly like it had before. She still went to school and he still went to work. They came home in the afternoon and Puck made dinner and Quinn kept working on her documentary. They still watched TV on the couch and she still brought him to all the lame Yale events. The only difference was that everything was better now, so much better. He slept in her bed and kissed her cheek before dropping her off at school. She rubbed his shoulders while watching _Top Dog_ and kissed the spot just below his collar bone until they forgot what the show was even about.

And late summer turned into fall which turned into winter and he was still there. In December he brought her to the Christmas party that the faculty of his school was having. It was their last night in New Haven before going home to Lima for Christmas (and Hanukkah) and Quinn had separation anxiety. The thought of not being with him all the time was so unappealing that she wasn't even looking forward to Christmas itself.

"Cheer up" Puck coaxed her as they walked into the school's faculty room where the party was. "It will be nice to see your mom, right?"

"I'd rather be with you" she admitted which made her blush because she wasn't used to being honest.

Puck slid his hand into hers. They were the youngest ones there, except some babies and toddler who couldn't be left at home. Quinn had strangely enough never really pictured what Puck's work place looked like, or the people who worked there. Basically it looked like every school in the country, except for a bit more run down. The teachers looked nice and were in their forties and was already a bit buzzed on eggnog.

"Noah!" a lady called out.

She wore a Christmas sweater with a huge dear on the front and earrings in the shape of snowflakes in a strictly non ironic way.

"Hello, Vera" Puck greeted her. "Nice sweater."

"Oh you know, it's only Christmas once a year" Vera replied, visibly pleased by his comment. "Who is your lady friend?"  
Quinn extended her hand and shook Vera's.

"This is my girlfriend, Quinn Fabray" Puck introduced. "And this is Vera, our principle and my boss."

Quinn smiled at the _girlfriend _part which was crazy since she had been many people's girlfriend before, but never felt like smiling at that word then. It just felt like it meant more now. Like a vow of something.

"Wow, you're the Yale girl, eh?" Vera asked, nodding happily. "Noah here brags about you a lot."

"I don't" Puck assured her.

"Oh, he does. But that's fine. He's just proud of you."

Quinn had no idea of what to reply to this. She just stood there smiling and nodding and still holding Puck's hand in hers. Vera eventually left to talk to someone else and left them alone again.

"I don't brag about you" Puck repeated.

She laughed and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. They sat down next to the science teacher and her husband Maurice and their twins. They spoke about mortgage rates and democracy and pollution and Quinn laughed at dumb jokes and held one of the sleeping children.

"You seem so grown up here" she whispered in Puck's ear. "This is your work place, and your colleagues..."

She didn't know to explain it better so she leaned her head onto his shoulder.

"It's not fancy" he shrugged. "But you know, teachers, teachers are the best people. Smart but never pretentious."

She handed the sleeping baby Francis back to Maurice when it was time to go home. They stepped out into the night air and she held tight to his hand and wished that her life could always be like this.

"You are the best person I know" she mumbled. "Smart but never pretentious."

"I didn't mean to include myself in that" he hurried to say. "I'm just subbing for someone who had a hernia."

"But you are" she insisted. "You're perfect for this job; you fit right in with those people."

"I don't know anything-" he began, but she interrupted him.

"You're the wisest person in the world. Who cares about Freud or the French revolution or whatever? You are compassionate and wonderful."

He bumped her hip with his, trying to make a joke out of it.

"You're just saying this because you're in love with me."

She bumped him back.

"You should get a teaching degree, Puck. And then you can do this all your life, teach kids and have wonderful colleagues with Christmas sweaters."

He didn't respond and she didn't push it because this was their last tonight together in two weeks and they could discuss it later. Suddenly she didn't feel panicky about being parted from anymore. They had all the time in the world to be together.

…

She watched him from across the backyard. Karen was glued to his side, laughing at his jokes and touching his arm. And it finally dawned on Quinn that Karen probably really loved him. She hated that thought; that someone could love someone that she loved. And she realized that Puck loved Karen back. And suddenly she felt very lonely.

"You don't have to like her" Mrs. Puckerman told Quinn silently.

"He wants me to."

"Well, that's asking for too much."

Quinn nodded mutely. She wondered how much Puck's mother knew. She wondered if she knew that this was all Quinn's fault; that if she hadn't ruined everything, Karen wouldn't even be here. Quinn deserved no pity or sympathy.

"They look happy" she acknowledged and wondered how words could hurt so much to pronounce.

"Maybe" Puck's mother said.

"He deserves to be happy."

"So do you."

Quinn turned away her face because she had no idea how to be happy if he wasn't with her. She could avoid breaking down and maybe get stronger, but not happy. She needed him in her life. It was the tragic truth.

"I still watch that film you made, honey" Mrs. Puckerman went on. "I still watch it once in a while and I cry for the two of you."

"Beth is fine" Quinn said, even though that meant nothing.

"Yes… All I mean is, you shouldn't be here in Lima or working in a diner in New York. You should make documentaries like that."

Quinn wondered when Puck had told her about her waitress job. She wondered if they often spoke about her.

"There are a lot of things I want" Quinn smiled. "It doesn't mean it will come true."

Puck's mother shook her head slowly.

"I don't believe that, honey. You can achieve anything you want."

Quinn opened her mouth to thank her but spotted them kissing, her hands on his neck and his in her hair. And she again doubted everything.

"I need to go home" she said and turned her back to leave.

She got to her car and had almost managed to escape. When she felt a hand on her shoulder she instantly thought of Puck, but the hand was smaller and the touch lighter.

"Please don't go" Hannah begged. "Please don't leave because of her."

Quinn looked over Puck's sister's head because she didn't want to see his features in hers.

"I just can't do it, Han. I'm sorry."

"You need to tell that you want him back."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

Hannah's voice was desperate and pleading.

"He has Karen now. It wouldn't be right or fair or even worthwhile to tell him anything."

Quinn laid a hand on Hannah's shoulder and swallowed.

"This doesn't change anything between you and me, Han. You can still call me anytime. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that sooner."

"It doesn't make sense" Hannah exploded with a rage that Puck had lost in his teens.

"I know."

"She's ruining everything."  
"No, Hannah" Quinn sighed, swallowing once more. "I ruined everything."

…

Quinn spent Christmas with the small part of what still was her family. Her father wasn't there and her sister was spending the holidays with her boyfriend's family in Indiana. Judy and Quinn ate pre prepared turkey and listening to Bing Crosby sing about white Christmases and exchanged gifts. It was very quaint and very quiet. In the evening, Puck called her to wish her Merry Christmas (even though he didn't celebrate it) and invited them over for a Puckerman family party. Quinn managed to drag her mother along and then lost her in the crowd.

"You have the biggest family in the world, and I have the smallest" Quinn complained to Puck when he found her.

"Well, at least you have a dad" he joked.

"He's an ass."

"Yeah, but still, you know, a dad."

She rolled her eyes. It was great relief to be around him again. She was turning into one of those people felt uncomfortable without their boyfriend. Quinn had always despised those people.

"Quinn! It's lovely to see you!" Mrs. Puckerman called from the kitchen.

Quinn felt Puck's mother's arms around her. She had always been big on hugging.

"Hi, Mrs. Puckerman. It's good to see you too. Happy Holidays!"

"You too, dear. Did Puck offer you a drink?"  
"Not yet."  
"Oh well, come with me. I'll get you one."  
She led Quinn away with a firm grip on the wrist to other side of the room where she poured a glass full of some kind of white liquid. Quinn craned her neck to try to spot Puck again, but he was lost in the sea of Puckermans.

"I really can't explain how pleased I am" Mrs. Puckerman exclaimed.

"About what?" Quinn asked.

"You and Noah. I knew… I expected there was something going on, you know, since he never moved on from your place and got a job and settled down. But you never know, you know."

"Right" Quinn agreed. "Right."  
"I just wanted to tell you that I think it's brilliant. Hannah and I, we both love you so much. This is such great news."

Quinn smiled and took the drink from Puck's mother. She would always remember living in this house during the pregnancy as one of the happiest times of her life, despite everything. Mrs. Puckerman had cried when she found out about the baby, but never said anything of disapproval. She had bought books and vitamins and held Quinn's hand when it all got too hard.

"Thank you for having us over" Quinn said. "My mom and I, I mean. We don't have much of a family anymore."

"Oh, that's nonsense, honey" Mrs. Puckerman scuffed. "All of these people here, they are your family, just as much as they are mine."

"Because of Beth?"

"Yes, because of Beth. And also because you are you, and we love you very much."

Quinn wanted to thank her, even though that seemed like the wrong thing to say.

"Just promise me that your children will be brought up in the Jewish faith" Mrs. Puckerman went on, probably only almost joking.

"You'll have to fight me on that, Elisabeth" said Judy, who had appeared out of nowhere.

"I think it's a bit early to worry about this" Quinn interjected but it was too late.

Their mothers were already discussing traditions and Jesus and what else. Quinn shook her head, thinking that there was nothing in the world that scared her more than having more children. She had track record of doing things wrong, of messing everything up, and kids was a big deal. She never wanted her children to end up like her.

…

"You can't just send me text telling me that you quit your job" Santana accused Quinn.

"Sure. Fine. My bad. But you didn't have to come here to tell me that" Quinn argued back.

Of course she was not really arguing and Santana wasn't really accusing. This was basically just the way they spoke to each other; the way they had since middle school and it seemed stupid to stop now.

"Tanya had to work and yeah, being alone in Hamptons isn't as fun as it sounds" Santana said.

"It doesn't sound fun at all."

"Well, then it was exactly as it sounds."  
Santana was tan, very tan, as she lay in her hot pink bikini on a lounge chair in Quinn's backyard. Quinn looked like ghost next to her, all pale and thin and sharp edges. She hadn't been by the pool all summer. Santana however looked like she had done nothing else.

"Why did you quit?" she demanded.

"I hated that job" Quinn said.

"I know, I figured that was why you kept working there. Self-punishment or whatever."

Quinn rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. She secretly very pleased of Santana's sudden arrival to Lima. It felt more like old times when she was here and suddenly Quinn craved the old times like crazy.

"I don't think I'm coming back to the city in the fall" Quinn told Santana, even though she hadn't even thought about it prior to this minute.

"You're leaving me with Berry and Kurt?"

"You lived with them for like three years before I moved in."

"And it was miserable."  
Quinn knew that wasn't the truth, but it didn't matter.

"Tanya thinks I should move out of there" Santana told her.

"And get your own place? No offence, San, but you can't afford that."

"She probably thinks I should move in with her" Santana answered, in a very nonchalant way that Quinn could see right through.

Quinn had met Tanya several times and liked her. However, she was in her mid-thirties, had two kids from a previous marriage and was a lawyer. Quinn couldn't wrap her head around how Santana had stuck with this woman for almost a year.

"What about the kids?" Quinn asked carefully.

"Yeah, they would live there too, I guess."

"And you would be okay with that?"  
Santana shrugged and changed the subject.

"Mom told me that Karen is here too" she said.

"Yeah" Quinn replied.

"You met her?"  
"Yeah."

"And?"  
Quinn abruptly felt very hot in the sun. Too hot. She needed to cool off, to clear her head. She stood up, took the sunglasses off and dived into the pool that Puck used to clean.

"I see…" Santana said as Quinn came up the surface again.

"What?"  
"Nothing. What did Karen say?"  
"Something about me fucking her boyfriend."

Santana raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"She's always been very sweet to me" she said.

Quinn sighed. She had expected that. Karen was probably a great person, nice and kind and everything. Quinn was the one at fault and was treated thereafter.

"It's quite hypocritical, don't you think?" Santana said. "How she's pissed at you and not at him. I mean, it's not like you forced him."

Quinn shrugged.

"Well, she loves him. You tend to forgive people you love."

…

"Have you any fucking idea how much I paid for this apartment? For your education?" Russell Fabray screamed in Quinn's face.

She backed hastily away, always retreating from him when he was enraged. She clutched the dining table with her hands, something to hold on to.

"Dad…"

"Yale is an expensive school. Don't you understand that?"  
His face was red and sweaty and she hated him. You weren't supposed to hate your father, but Quinn couldn't help it. He scared her.

"I do" she said.

"Then why are you wasting my money on _film making_?" he spat at her.

She wondered when they last had spoken without him screaming at her. She couldn't remember.

"Who told you?" she asked meekly. "Look, journalism is still my major but…"

He cut her off before she could explain herself further. Quinn guessed that it was Judy or Frannie who had let it slip about the documentary thing. It wasn't a secret; really, she had just refrained from telling her father because she had known this would happen. She had wanted to avoid a surprise visit by her father as long as possible.

"And that's not all, I've learned" he went on, smiling in all his rage. "A little bird told me that you're sharing this apartment, which I've paid for, with Noah Puckerman."

She looked away from him, wishing she could yell at him and tell him to leave and she was a grown up. She wished that she was braver, that she had the guts to not hide in the corner.

"Yes" she whispered in the tiniest voice she had, the voice of the eight year old Quinn who he had slapped across the face ripping her church dress.

"Let me get this straight" her father went on, too loudly, always too loudly. "I pay for your school, for a nice place for you to stay. And what do you do, Quinn? You shack up with Lima's delinquent number one, the boy who barely graduated, who comes from a family of failures."

"Please don't-" she begged and hated herself for begging.

"Is this some kind of rebellion? Trying to make me even more ashamed of you? Don't stop at getting knocked up at sixteen, Quinn, no, go on. Screw away your future too."

Once in High School when Quinn had made Rachel cry, Emma had taken her into her office and given her a glass of water and asked _where does all this meanness come from, Quinn_? She had not replied anything back then, but here it was the answer. Her father had taught her all she knew about making people hurt.

"You don't know him" she whispered.

"Don't know him? He corrupted you when you were just a kid and here he is, still going strong."

Quinn stepped even further away. She wished that the apartment was bigger so that she could disappear from view.

"_Please_" she croaked again, as someone unlocked the door from the outside and stepped in.

Puck had takeout in one hand and his keys in the other. It was obviously snowing outside and he had small flakes on his face, in eyelashes and on the shoulders of his leather jacket.

"And here he is!" Russell exclaimed sarcastically.

Puck met her eyes and she wanted to say how sorry she was.

"Mr. Fabray. I didn't know you were coming" he said, stepping out of his shoes.

"Neither did I. I thought I would be at home, drinking a beer and watching a game, but nonetheless, here I am."

"Right" Puck said slowly.

Quinn looked up into the ceiling and prayed to a god she wasn't sure she believed in anymore for this to be over.

"How is life, Puckerman?" Russell went on his false voice. "Is the plan of living of my daughter going well for you?"

"Excuse me?"  
"Was she the only one stupid enough to let you in?"  
Puck turned from the man she knew and loved into the school boy filled with rage that he had once been. She hadn't seen him angry in ages. However as soon as she saw his face darken and his jaw clench, she was reminded of their high school years. Of the boy he had been.

"Don't call her that" he hissed and she hated how much rage there was in his voice.

She hated that she was the cause of him going backwards instead of forward.

"She evidently fell in love with you. You call that smart?"

"You should leave" Puck snarled.

"I own this place, _Noah_. I can stay as long as I want."

They stared at each other; her boyfriend and her father. One that she loved so much it made her dizzy with fear. And one she feared enough to make her dizzy.

"She is an adult" Puck said. "We can get another apartment. She can take loans to pay for school. You don't get to make decisions for her anymore. You lost your right to do so when you kicked her out at sixteen."

Quinn said nothing still. Neither did Russell. He just smiled a smile that lacked joy and left. The door slammed loudly behind him. Quinn hurried to lock it. Puck was still wearing his leather jacket. The snowflakes had melted into water drops that dripped down the shoulders.

"You shouldn't have let him in" he said, sounding tired.

"I know" she whispered and hated herself for being the weakest person in the world.

…

Quinn was shopping for groceries when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Karen standing there, in the dairy aisles, with a red basket on her arm. She fought her first instinct, which was to run away. Instead she smiled her fakest smile at the woman who had everything she wanted.

"Hello Quinn."

"Hi."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine" Quinn replied in her most polite voice. "And you?"  
"Great. If I could just find the razors. Noah's run out."

Quinn pointed at the checkout. Karen smiled in relief. She smelt faintly of a flowers and the same kind of body lotion that Frannie used. She looked younger up close, less collected and more fragile. And out of place in this small town store. This was strangely enough Quinn's home turf.

"They have them behind the counter here. Apparently kids steal razors and condoms."

"Thanks."  
"Sure."  
They stared at each other some more. Karen didn't speak with her evil voice now, she smiled nicely and Quinn wondered what she had done to deserve that. Strangely enough it didn't feel much better than being snarled at.

"I'm not as terrible as you think" Karen said suddenly. "I'm not a horrible person."  
"Neither am I" Quinn replied, which probably was a lie, but Karen didn't have to know that.

"You slept with my boyfriend" she said, not accusingly, just stating the facts.

"I didn't know he was your boyfriend" Quinn said honestly. "He didn't tell me."  
Karen pursed her lips. Actually Quinn didn't care if she believed her or not. They would never be best friends. Quinn wouldn't weep if she never saw this girl again.

"I just wanted to tell you" Karen began again. "That I really love him. He loves me too, I think, and we have good things going on. But every time you get involved, something shifts. Something goes wrong and I start to doubt and…"

"You should talk to him about this. Not me" Quinn interjected.

"I have. He tells me that it's nothing to worry about, but I'm not stupid."  
"Puck doesn't lie."  
Karen sighed.

"No, I know. God, sometimes I wish that he would."  
"What's your point, Karen?"

"He might believe that we are fine, and that you are something of the past. But... that's not true, is it?"

Quinn began to look at the stack of milk based drinks without sugar again. Judy had a special brand that she always bought and Quinn couldn't remember which one it was.

"You should really talk to him" she repeated simply.

"I mean, you are beautiful and he can go on forever about how smart you are and… I can't measure up."

Quinn felt no sympathy for her. Maybe it made her a heartless person, but Karen had the upper hand. She had Puck. Quinn had nothing, but a basket full of sugar free groceries and a broken heart.

"All I'm asking" Karen exhaled. "Is that you stay away from us while we're here."

Quinn inspected her face. There was even fear in her eyes. Fear and a stubbornness that Quinn could relate to.

"We have the same friends. We even have a kid together. It doesn't just work that I ignore him for a summer."

Karen sighed. She looked deeply troubled, almost in tears. Quinn still felt no sympathy. She passively watched Karen cringe under the weight of her troubles.

"The kid. Beth. Right. Your eternal bond" she said sarcastically.

Quinn straightened her back.

"I need to go, Karen. My mother's waiting in the car" she said hurriedly, brushing past her on the way to pay.

"Don't you want him to be happy?" Karen hissed in her ear as they walked. "Don't you want that for him?"

Quinn ignored her and paid and walked away. It wasn't until she got into the car that she remembered that she hadn't bought half the things that were on the shopping list.

…

"I got to hold him once" Alisha told the camera. "Once and then they took him away."

Her posture was still straight and her gaze still focused, but there was something different about her. Something had broken within her; had snapped in two.

"Do you know where he is now?" Quinn asked, fighting her keep any emotion out of her voice.

"No."

Two letters filled with pain and hurt. Quinn tried to read the next question from the piece of paper she had in her hands but tears clouded her vision. She had honestly thought that making this documentary would make her feel better, not worse.

"You know where your kid is right?" Alisha asked, filling the silence.

"Yes" she said.

"How did you manage that? They all wanted closed adoptions, every couple, even the gay ones without that many options."

Quinn looked up. Alisha had tears in her eyes too though there was no change in her posture. She looked proud and fragile at the same time.

"It's complicated" Quinn began.

"I bet" Alisha commented.

"Our friend's biological mother adopted her" Puck helped out from behind the camera.

Alisha laughed, hoarsely and dryly.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Quinn needed to steer the interview back to Alisha because all this crap about Beth was useless. She was not including anything about her own life. Not a whisper.

"How do you feel, Alisha?" she asked, softly and kindly.

Alisha's eyes never left the camera lens but if she had, Quinn was pretty sure that she would have rolled her eyes at Quinn.

"How do you think I feel?"  
"I don't know. Describe it."  
"I can't."

"Would you please try?"

Alisha crossed her legs and uncrossed them and crossed them again.

"I feel like I will never be happy again."

Silence filled the room again. Quinn knew silence meant that she would have to edit the raw footage more carefully, and despite that she said nothing. She didn't know what to say.

"But you will" Puck murmured.

As he was placed behind the camera, he was the only person Alisha saw. Quinn was glad that it was him. He wasn't supposed to speak; his job was managing the camera, but she was happy he was here because he always knew what to say.

"You don't know that" Alisha argued.

"It will suck. Life will suck for ages. I felt unhappy enough to act like an idiot for my entire junior year, even got myself into juvie. But then, then it got better, day by day."

"That's a fucking cliché" Alisha snapped.

"No, it's not. It sounds like it because it's been repeated over and over. But the reason it has been repeated so many times because it's true."

Quinn stayed quiet. She tore the paper with questions in two because they were all stupid and naïve. Sadness flooded through her, almost drowning her. She fought for the surface, reminding herself that she had gotten through it, that she had come out on the other side.

"At least you two had each other" Alisha whispered. "I'm all alone."

Quinn didn't argue when Puck turned the camera off and went to make hot chocolate. Quinn turned on the TV and found a rerun of that monkey show they loved and Alisha spent the night on the couch where Puck used to sleep.

"I'm sorry I shut you out" she whispered into his ear, her face hidden darkness. "I'm sorry we didn't have each other to get through giving her up."

"I know" he whispered back. "You don't have to apologize."

"I'm sorry you went to jail and fell behind in school and…"

He rolled closer to her and pressed his lips against her forehead. That wasn't enough though. She wanted him to tell her that he forgave her.

"I'm sorry you couldn't lean on me" she almost mouthed into the dark room. "I'm sorry I left you all alone."

…


	7. no one ever said it would be this hard

Shelby handed Quinn a cup of coffee. It was early in the morning, the sun had barely risen yet and Quinn felt mostly still asleep.

"You call me if there's any trouble" Shelby said sternly. "Anything."  
"We will" Quinn assured her softly.

Shelby was leaving town to see some old friends, for the day. She would be gone no more than ten hours and was despite that severely worried. Puck wasn't, though, he was excited for this opportunity to spend an entire day alone with his daughter. Quinn was too sleepy feel anything yet.

"His girlfriend isn't coming, is she?" Shelby hissed.

Puck and Beth was watching cartoons and eating cereal. Both their eyes are set on the TV and they both laughed at the same time as someone tripped on the screen.

"No" Quinn said.

"I ran into her them the other day."  
"Really?" Quinn mumbled.

"She looked nice enough."

"I'm sure."

"I know it sounds selfish, but it really would have been easier if you two had just stayed together" Shelby sighed. "Beth has enough parents."

Quinn clenched her hands tightly in the pockets of her sweatshirt. Her fingernails cut into the palms and left dents in the skin.

"She's not going to be a parent" she said.

Shelby turned to look at her, raising her eyebrows.

"What happened between you and Noah?" she asked. "Why did it end?"

Quinn unclenched her hands, slowly, one finger at a time. She had avoided this question so many times before, from so many people, that she was practically an expert at it.

"It just didn't work out" she answered, as vague as ever.

"I'm kind of shocked by that. I thought you would get married and have more kids."

"One's enough" Quinn said and placed her mug on the counter top.

She stretched her arms to the ceiling in an attempt to wake herself up. Working nights for a year had messed up her sleep cycle. The last time she was awake at five AM and not on her way home from work, she didn't remember.

"I should get on the road" Shelby announced, going over to kiss her daughter's hair. "You be good, Beth."

Beth shook herself out of her mother's grip. She was still in her pajamas, blue pants with small ducklings on them and shirt with the words "I HELPED SAVE TURTLES IN 2012" on it. Quinn thought that this was probably the first time she had seen her daughter in pajamas since she had been a small child. It was some kind of a milestone.

"Shelby, you're blocking the TV" Beth whined and shoved her mother away.

Quinn thought that this was not the first time that Beth had not called Shelby _mom_. She wondered if it was a pre-teen revolt thing.

"Oh well. I tried. You two, call me if there's any trouble" Shelby sighed.

"We will" Puck promised her, taking his eyes from the screen to give her an assuring smile.

"We'll be fine" Quinn agreed.

Shelby took her purse and left. Quinn slumped down on the couch next to man who used to be her boyfriend and the girl who used to be her daughter. She was a TV-lover and watched way too much of it, but animated shows about aliens was not her thing. Beth and Puck laughed and Quinn shut her eyes. Just for a minute, she thought and then fell asleep.

"Is she sleeping?"

Beth's voice was sharp and Quinn's stirred awake. She kept her eyes closed, in hopes of getting a few more minutes of rest.

"I think so" Puck confirmed.

"Why?"  
"It's _really _early in the morning."  
"Doesn't she like _Jumbo – the space monkey_?"

"Probably not as much as we do."

"Should we wake her?" Beth asked.

"Nah, not yet" Puck replied.

"Do you think Karen is prettier than her?" Beth asked, a small note of accusation in her voice. "Because I don't. I think Quinn is much prettier."

Puck laughed under his breath.

"Quinn is beautiful" he told Beth.

"Then why are you with Karen?"

"Looks aren't everything."

"Is Karen nicer then?"  
"Let's just watch Jumbo, Beth" Puck said, with sternness that he had never before used towards Beth.

They were quiet for a while. Quinn was again on the verge of sleep. She wanted to hear if they were going to say anything else, but the couch was soft and the sounds from the TV were oddly soothing. Just when she was about to let go and fall back asleep, Beth spoke again.

"Don't you two love each other anymore?" she asked.

Her voice was lower now, it even sounded scared.

"Of course we do" Puck answered.

"Are you lying?"

"No, I never lie" he said.

"Then why are you not together?" Beth pushed on.

Puck didn't reply and Quinn suddenly felt wide awake.

…

"Should we say something about us?" Quinn asked, despite having asked the same question at least ten times before.

"She's a kid, Quinn. She won't know the difference" Puck told her calmly.

He rang the doorbell. Quinn straightened her shoulders and pulled out Beth's birthday present. She was five today which meant that Quinn was twenty-one. Their ages would always be like that, variables in the same equation.

"Welcome" Shelby said, greeting them with a big smile.

They stepped into the house and immediately were struck by the smell of something burning.

"Mommy burnt the cake" Beth informed them from the dining room.

Quinn stood still, watching Beth for about a minute in total silence. Seeing her daughter only once a year was the strangest thing, a child could change so much in a year. But then, a lot of things had changed in a year for Quinn too.

"I love burnt cake" Puck announced, raising his hand in greeting to all the grandparents and cousins.

"Then you're in luck" Shelby sighed. "We have a lot of that."  
Quinn picked a chair next to Shelby's cousin, Marla, and sat down. She told them that, yes, the trip had gone great and yes, they were very hungry. Beth sang a song she had learned from the TV and everyone laughed. Puck clapped the loudest. They ate store bought cupcakes because evidently the cake had been really burned. Shelby took the lead in _Happy Birthday _and Quinn smiled, because sometimes it was so clear that she was Rachel's mother.

"I'll help to clear up" Quinn offered, and began to stack plates.

Puck was setting up the board game that someone had given Beth as a gift, handing out paper money to each person around the table.

"Quinn, don't you wanna be on my team?" Puck called out.

She snorted at him.

"I don't want to join the losing one" she retorted, taking his plate and adding it to her pile.

"I'm great at board games" he pouted.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't you remember when we played _Trivial Pursuit _with my college friends last year?" she asked, mockingly.

"Hey" he complained. "That's a lame game. This, this is good game. We're going to find a diamond or something."  
"I'll be on your team" Beth piped up.

"Aw, listen, Q. You'll get to be with me _and_ Beth."

Quinn watched Beth's face closely, looking a sign of disappointment, for any sign that she would rather have Puck to herself. Quinn saw no such thing on their daughter's face. The prospect a game was evidently more important than who was on her team.

"Oh well" she agreed. "Maybe Beth and I can try to carry your weight."

Puck grinned and pulled her down onto his lap. She wasn't the kind of girl who sat on her boyfriend's lap, never had been, but the feeling of being able to lean back against him was nice. Beth threw the dice and moved the pieces on the huge board. Quinn cheered when they won, which was probably because the other grown-ups wanted to see Beth happy.

"What's our prize?" she asked, pulling at her mother's hand.

"Honey, you just got a lot of birthday presents. I think that's enough for one day" Shelby sighed.

"What about Puck and Quinn?" she asked, in her tiny voice, still holding on to Shelby's hand. "Don't they get a prize?"

Shelby looked up at them, at Quinn sitting on his knee, with his arm around her waist. She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head at him.

"They look pretty happy as it is" she noted. "I don't think they need another prize."

…

She drove him home later that night, when Shelby had come back and Beth had fallen asleep and they were both exhausted. She parked the car outside his mother's house. The light was still on in the living room; Hannah, Karen or Mrs. Puckerman was still up.

"That went well, right?" Puck said.

"Yeah" Quinn agreed. "Really great."

"She's like a real person now. I mean, she says smart things and…"  
Quinn nodded.

"She's eight" she said, which meant nothing to must people, but everything to the two of them.

Puck's age was parallel with Beth's too. They had that in common. Three variables in the most complicated equation of all time.

"Do you think Shelby will let us babysit when she goes to that bachelorette party?" he asked.

Quinn shrugged.

"I don't know. I hope so."

"Do you?"

She nodded and yes, she really did. Before she had always been apprehensive and scared about seeing Beth, feeling out of place and that it was too hurtful. Now she didn't. Now it was hours that she could spend the most fascinating person in the world.

"She looks so much like you" Quinn exhaled. "It's scary."

"Hey" he said, elbowing her softly in the midriff. "Are you saying I'm not hot?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. She looks like a mini-Hannah with all that dark hair and brown hair."

"Damn my recessive genes" Quinn joked and pulled playfully with her blonde hair and pointed at her light eyes.

"She's more like you" Puck said.

"No, she's not" Quinn argued.

"Yes, she is. Can't you tell? I mean, every time we see her it strikes me. She watches me, exactly like you watch people. She questions everything, never just accepts something like I do. She's skeptical to new things, but when she accepts them, she never lets go."

Quinn cleared her throat.

"I don't want her to have anything from me" she said, and she didn't know if that was true or not.

"Why not?"  
"I'm a train wreck."

"No, you're not. You had a bad year. I've had bad years too."

"Yes, because of me."

He leaned his head to one side. His eyes were the softest thing. She wondered how they could ever turn black and mean and evil. It seemed like a different pair of eyes.

"Don't say that" he mumbled. "Please, don't say that."

Quinn looked away and swallowed down the tears that burned in her throat.

"Well, I'd rather she had gotten my hair instead of my mood."

She began to pick at a stray thread in her sweater. He was still watching her. The radio played a song about love that Quinn didn't recognize.

"I'd better go inside" he said.

"I wish you wouldn't" she whispered.

He covered her fingers with his hand, forcing her stop picking at the thread, forcing her to look at him.

"You can't say things like that, Quinn" he breathed. "It's not fair."

"Okay."

"There's Karen and-"

"I get it" she cut across him. "Sorry."

He didn't move his hand. She pressed her fingers against it, keeping them closer together. Karen had told her, no, asked her to stay away from Puck. Quinn didn't care. She was already the worst person in the world.

"I wish Beth would inherit everything from you" he mumbled. "Every little thing."

His cheekbones, the ones that Beth also had, were sharp in the moonlight. He had scruff on his chin and watercolor paint on his neck and she loved him.

"I feel the same way about you."

_Tap, tap, tap_. They both looked up, and around. And there was Karen, knocking on Puck's window, dressed in a pale pink robe. He opened the door and as he did, his hand slid away from Quinn's.

"Is everything okay?" Karen asked. "You've been out here a long time."

"Yeah, sure. Everything's fine" Puck replied. "We were just talking."

"Really?" Karen asked harshly. "About what?"  
"Beth. She's growing up so fast and…"

"Fine. Now let's go to bed" Karen interrupted. "Goodnight, Quinn."

"Night" Quinn mumbled as Karen slammed the car door shut.

…

When Quinn announced that Puck was coming for dinner, her mother had started to cook. And she didn't stop. Quinn had tried to tell her that it was Puck that coming for dinner, not the president, but Judy didn't listen.

"It doesn't matter what you serve" Quinn had persisted. "It's Puck, he'll eat anything."  
"Of course it matters" Judy had sighed and tasted the sauce. "He matters to you and therefore, it matters what I serve him.

At seven, he was there, wearing a nice white button down shirt and black pants and smelling of cologne.

"Hello Noah" Judy said, shaking his hand.

"Hi Mrs. Fabray" he said, amused by the formality.

Judy was acting like it was the first time she had met him, as if he was someone, a stranger, who Quinn had brought home for dinner.

"Honey, take his jacket" Judy told her.

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"He can hang it himself, he's closer to the hangers."

Judy gave her a disappointed look and Quinn took the leather jacket from Puck's hands. She hung it next her one of her father's coats, a winter coat made of thick wool that he had forgot to bring with him to his new wife.

"Welcome Noah" Judy went on, in her formal voice. "I hope you like chicken."  
"Love it" he told her, smiling.

They sat down around the dining table that was too big for three people. It had been appropriate when they had been four in the family and hosted dinner parties, but that time was long gone now.

"You two are dating now" Judy said, passing Quinn the salad.

"Yes, mom."

"How nice."

"I think so" Puck grinned.

Quinn stopped listening as her mother questioned him about things, like his work and his mother's life and other things that she already knew everything about. She watched Puck lean his elbows against the oak table, a sin in the Fabray household, and how Judy flinched as she saw it, but said nothing. Instead she looked happy as Puck ate more potatoes and more chicken and said that everything tasted great. Puck might not the type of person that Judy had expected (or hoped) Quinn to end up with, but she was accepting it. Perhaps it was because of the wine. Quinn had had one glass and Puck nothing, and still the bottle was already only half full.

"I mean, I still think that you two should have gotten married when Quinn was pregnant" Judy said, slurring ever so slightly.

Quinn wondered how much her mother had had to drink before the dinner.

"Mom…"

"You could at least have asked" her mother told Puck, half-jokingly.

"I would have, if I had thought that there was any shot of her saying yes."  
"We gave her away, mom" Quinn said silently. "There was no point in getting married because of Beth if she was someone else's."

"But you would have had each other" Judy insisted, pouring herself a fourth glass of red wine.

Quinn moved the bottle away from her. She hated to see her mother drunk. It made the family failure so painfully obvious for everyone to see.

"Is that reason enough to get married?" Puck pondered. "Because you don't want to be alone?"  
"It's as good a reason as any" Judy responded and Quinn wondered if it was from her mother that she had received her practical view on relationships.

Or the practical view on relationships that she had had until recently.

"I think you should only get married if you're like giddily in love" Puck said. "Not because of legal issues or because of babies or because you've been together five years."

"That's nice" Judy said flatly, looking around for the wine bottle that Quinn had moved. "More to drink anyone?"

They ate dessert and talked more about non-important stuff like politics and religion and other things that were easier to discuss with your mother than love.

…

The night was warm and she stayed in her car for hours. Her brain had gone from exhausted to alert in mere minutes and her fingers almost shook with awareness as she tapped them against the steering wheel. She listened to the radio, to the same songs over and over and to the commercial breaks and she heard none of it. The night turned into to morning and she was still in the car. Her trembling fingers found her phone as the sun began to rise.

"Can you bring me coffee?" she asked into the phone, but meant something else.

"Okay" Santana replied.

Twenty minutes she was in the car too, with two mugs of coffee that had gotten cold on the walk over. Quinn cupped her hands around the china, just like she did this time yesterday at Beth's house. She's been awake for 24 hours and almost felt sick.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked.

Santana reclined her seat all the way back and opened the window to let some air in. She said nothing and Quinn said nothing and a morning show on the radio was interviewing someone about a lost dog.

"I can't do this anymore" she started again. "I can't be this person."

"Then don't" Santana said.

"I used to be so much and now I am nothing."  
The coffee was too strong, the aftertaste was bitter on Quinn's tongue. Santana kept rubbing her eyes against the sun. Quinn stared into it, wanting it to sting, wanting the light to blind her.

"I used to be the person people bragged about" she said. "And now, I have nothing. Literally nothing."

Santana sighed loudly.

"Yeah, well, you've changed. That happens, you grow up. And for the record, you are a hell of a lot more pleasant to be around now."

"So are you. Has Tanya had that effect on you?"  
"No" Santana replied, affronted. "_I_ had that effect on me."  
"Puck made me better" Quinn argued.

"No, he didn't. You loved him and that made you different, you adapted and changed because of yourself and other circumstances. Don't give him credit."

People were getting up now to go to work. Men and women were stepping out to pick up the newspaper and tying their shoes on the porch and getting into their cars. Children came out to play in the gardens.

"You are not miserable because of him, Quinn" Santana went on. "Yeah, well, sort of. But you are miserable because you've given up. You gave up on him and on getting another job and on Beth and on Boston. You just gave up."

Quinn's eyelids began to droop. She was suddenly exhausted again, ready for sleep, for endless sleep, but she fought to stay awake a little bit longer.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked.

"You start fighting for something again; start to care and apply yourself."

Quinn clenched her fists to stay awake. She stared more intently into the sun, it burned her eyes and made her see strange shapes in the lightest shade of yellow.

"If you care, you can get hurt" she said plainly.

Santana sighed again. She wasn't a morning person at all, and also, she wasn't one to listen to whining.

"Stop playing the victim, Q. You have a degree from one of the best schools in the world. You have talent. You have a kid. And you have me. What else do you need?"

Quinn smiled. She smiled and turned to Santana and laughed, because God she was tired. She laughed because it all seemed so easy when Santana said it.

"I need to go to bed" she announced.

"I think you do" Santana agreed.

…

She wrote his name next to hers on the door of their apartment. He had brought some stuff from his room in Lima, a poster from the movie _Fight Club_, a shelf he had made in woodshop and all the clothes he owned. Quinn made room in the closet for his t-shirts and helped him tape Brad Pitt's image in the living room. Despite the fact that he lived with for such a long time, this was it, this was it for real. This was the official point when her place became theirs.

"I feel so grown up" Puck said as he opened a beer and sat down on the couch. "I have a job, a girlfriend and an apartment that her daddy pays for."

Quinn laughed. Her college friends, Anne-Belle, Kerry and Mary, were coming over for dinner. She had decided to stop treating them like replacements and dinner felt like a good start.

"Do you think your friends will like me?" Puck asked, dramatically, with a weak voice.

"You already know them, idiot."

"It's been a long time. They might have started to despise me."  
"Trust me: you're the most interesting thing to have happened in their lives since the Higgs boson" Quinn assured him.

"I have no idea what that is."

"No one does" she comforted him and glided down next to him.

He placed his arm around her shoulder and offered her his beer. She shook her head and kissed him instead. Despite laughing at him earlier, this formal and official move in made her feel grown up too. And accomplished. She was a college senior with her senior project in the making. She owned property (or sort of), had good friends and a boyfriend. Her mother was proud of her. Quinn didn't really know what else to ask for.

"Are you inviting the college squad over just because I said that you don't care about them?" Puck asked sincerely.

"Maybe" she replied.

"You don't have to be friends with them just because I made an excellent point."  
She shoved him in the ribs, but he just pulled her closer and kissed her again.

"They're nice" she whispered into his lips.

"Very nice" he agreed.

"And they like you."

"How much do they like me? More than that Higg thing?"

Quinn giggled.

"I would say they like you equally to the Higgs Boson."

"And how much do you like me?" he mumbled into the skin just behind her ear. "I mean in comparison to the Boson?"  
His kisses were light and her blood was pumping fast in her veins. The scruff on his face rubbed against her cheek and she turned his face so that he kissed her mouth instead. He bent down over her, gently pressing her down on her back on the couch. Her newly ironed dress was wrinkling under her body and she didn't care. He was the first person who made her stop caring about things like that.

"Well, the Higgs Boson might be able to help us explain the entire universe" she whispered, pretending to think the question over.

"But will it love you forever?" he asked as his hands disappeared under her dress and found her hot skin and she closed her eyes for just a second.

"No" she almost hissed. "No, I don't think it's capable of that."

The doorbell rang. Kerry or Mary or Anne-Belle was here. Early, of course. Girls like that, like Quinn, was always early.

"Then I think I win" Puck told her before getting up to answer the door.

Quinn exhaled slowly and thought that yes, yes he probably did.

…

She watched her own documentary 24 times a in a row. The version that her mother had on DVD was only fifteen minutes long, it was the short version that she had sent out to seek work after graduation. After the fifth time she picked up a notebook and scribbled vigorously in it, marking down everything that was bad and everything that had could been done better. She listened to her own voice, talking in the background about circumstances and statistics. She watched Alisha, Anna and Rachel talk, all had different views on the subject, and all of them were interesting.

"What are you doing?" Judy asked, as she stepped into the room after the 20th time.

"Applying myself" Quinn replied, not taking her eyes from Alisha's eyes, which seemed to pierce through her.

"That's great, honey."

After the 24th viewing, Quinn went to get her computer. She still had all the raw material on the hard drive, she had worked too hard on it delete it, even after she had given up on her dream. She watched the first full interview with Rachel, it was almost two hours long and she could hear Puck interjecting even though he wasn't supposed to. She watched one of the interviews with Anna too, a woman in her thirties who had given her baby up for adoption nearly fifteen years previously. Quinn didn't want to watch to Alisha's interviews. Not yet. She would, soon.

"Are you alright?" Judy asked, popping her head into the room a few hours later. "You've been in here all day."

"I'm fine" Quinn replied absent-mindedly.

"Are you making another documentary?" Judy asked tentatively.

"No, the same one. Only better."  
"I made dinner, do you want some?"  
Quinn shook her head.

"I'm not hungry."

Judy left again and Quinn put on her headphones and watched Rachel talk about Shelby. She heard herself ask questions. Stupid, naïve questions read from a paper and better questions that were spontaneous. Rachel cried, because Rachel was a good crier.

"I didn't tell you to go crazy" Santana remarked sourly, as she pulled the headphones off Quinn's head.

Quinn paused the film in the moment that Rachel blew her nose. Santana sniggered at the image on the screen.

"Did my mom call you?" Quinn asked.

"Yes. She sounded worried. You did sleep this morning, right?"  
"Yeah, I did. For a full eight hours."

"You should eat something. Judy seems anxious."  
Quinn groaned but closed the laptop screen and got up. She stretched her arms towards the ceiling. It had been a long time since she had felt the stiffness in the shoulders after working for hours on the computer.

"You want some?" she asked Santana.

"Judy's cooking? Absolutely. Why do you think I came over so quickly?"  
Quinn laughed. They went out to kitchen and loaded their plates with lasagna. As Quinn's reheated hers in the microwave, Santana caught her eye.

"You giving up waitressing then, Q?" she asked.

"Hopefully."  
"Good, I bet you were terrible at it."

Quinn rolled her eyes and watched as the timer on the microwave counted down.

"I talked to Tanya. I'm… going to try it. You know. Living with her."

Quinn hid a smile as the plate spun round and round behind the plastic window.

"That's great."  
"You think it's crazy."

"No, I don't. I think it's sweet."

"_Shut up."_

"You'll have kids too now, San" Quinn teased her.

"No, I won't" Santana argued aggressively.

"And yet you look so young to already have two!"

Santana didn't speak to her for half an hour.

…

After too much wine one night in bed he brought up the future. Post-college. Post-New Haven. She was frightened of things changing, of the risk of things getting worse again. She wanted for nothing else than to be drunk in a bed with the boy she loved. She was reluctant to discuss any of it, but it was already December and time was running out.

"What do you think of LA?" he asked, a faint slur to his usually steady voice.

"Too sunny" she replied. "How about Boston?"  
"Boston? What do they have in Boston?"

"Baseball" she said. "And _Kennings_."  
"The company that makes all those documentaries?"

"Yeah."

"You applied for a job?"  
"Just sent them my film and an application. They usually don't take interns, but you know…"

He looked at her and she looked back. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She leaned into his touch, longing for more and it for never end.

"I love Boston" he said softly. "Have I ever told you that?"  
"What about your job here?" she asked.

"It's just temporary."

"But you like this city…"

"Nah, I like it because you live here. And I will love Boston if you'll allow me to go with you."

"I just sent in an application, Puck. It will probably come nothing out of it."  
"Maybe not."

They sat closely in the bed they shared, close enough for her hair to brush his shoulder as she leaned in to kiss him again. He flipped her over, onto her back, and she grabbed hold of his neck.

"We can buy an apartment in Boston" he whispered between kisses. "You're rich, right?"  
She laughed.

"We could get a loan."  
"A loan? God, what has come of me? Am I a responsible adult now?"  
"No, not at all" she whispered as his mouth found the soft spot below her collar bone.

She raised her arms and he pulled off T-shirt she had worn to bed; one of his shirts. Her mind was cloudy with wine and with him and she couldn't think straight enough to be worried about change anymore. These waves of lust and love that never seemed to end made everything very clear and very unclear at the same time. She wanted him, like she had never wanted anything else. She tugged at his hair that grown an inch or two during the winter. His kisses were rough now and she wanted more, and never to have less.

"Are you scared?" he asked, his voice ragged.

"No."

She thought of that night, all those years ago, on the bed in her bedroom in Lima. How the painting of Jesus had looked down at them as he kissed just, just like this and how she had forgotten everything then too. She hadn't been scared then and she wasn't scared now. It was the stuff that come afterwards that had been terrifying.

"Look at us" he whispered. "You and me. The dysfunctional ones, they told us. We're the ones planning our future. Not Rachel and Finn. Not Mike and Tina. Not even Mr. Shue and Ms. Pillsbury. You and me."  
"Don't jinx it" she mumbled back through swollen lips.

But maybe it was already too late.

…


	8. coming back as we are

It was decided rather abruptly that the Bushwick apartment was be emptied out and that the inhabitants would move on from the damp walls and the leaking roof. Santana agreeing to move in with her girlfriend had been the final straw. Rachel would move in with two of her co-stars in the city and Kurt was going to try his luck in London for a year. They all gathered to empty the place, to pack their belongings into boxes and suitcases.

"I don't even remember what it's like to have walls" Kurt joked.

Quinn had almost forgotten how bad the place smelled, like dirty socks and mildew. She opened the windows wide as Rachel went through a book shelf.

"Is this yours?" she asked Quinn, holding out a copy of _1984_.

Quinn shook her head. A lot of different people had lived in this place. Rachel, Kurt and Santana had been the three constant inhabitants, but Blaine, Finn, Brody, Puck and Quinn had too called this place home. When everyone had collected the stuff that was there's, they made piles of stuff they guessed belonged to the others.

"It's probably not Finn's" Rachel said, still holding the book.

"Just throw it away" Santana suggested.

"I can't do that!"

"If someone hasn't missed the book in all this time, I doubt he or she ever will."

Quinn thought of how few things she had owned during the year in New York. She hadn't been able to bring furniture with her from Boston, no books or the bed or the coffee machine from Italy. All of those things were still in Puck's place. He still probably had her books in the shelves, still drank coffee from her machine and still slept in her bed. With Karen.

"I wonder who will live here now" Rachel sighed dreamily.

"Hopefully no one" Quinn replied. "I hope they tear this place down before someone dies from all the mildew."

Santana laughed. They continued packing for about an hour and then Kurt ordered them pizza. Sitting on the hard floor, they ate Quinn's last New York pizza in a long while. She hoped. She felt done with this city, a city that was so connect with confusion and heartbreak and bad decisions. Her friends had come to New York to fight for their dreams while she had come to run away from her nightmares. There was a poignant difference.

"I have to admit" Kurt said. "It will be strange not living with you guys anymore."

"It will" Rachel agreed sadly.

She had always been one for nostalgia.

"My ears might be able to heal now" Santana teased. "Six years of living with you guys... It hasn't been easy."

"Remember Brody and his pager that went off all the time?" Kurt asked. "God, that used to wake me up."

"Don't talk about him" Rachel exhaled.

"And how Finn would never be able to lock the door properly and how all those stray cats wandered in?"

Quinn laughed even though she hadn't lived here then. She laughed because she had heard the story of Finn and the four cats so many times it felt like she was part of it anyway.

"And Puck…" Kurt began and then stopped.

His eyes flitted over to Quinn before looking down. She said nothing. She could have told him that it was fine, that he could talk about Puck if he wanted to. She could have had, but she really didn't want to talk about him. Or think about him. Which was a big paradox since it was all she ever did.

"Thanks for letting me stay here" she said instead.

"Anytime, Q" Santana grinned, flinging her arm around Quinn's shoulder. "You were the perfect roommate. Always paid the rent on time and never seemed to be around."

"The glory of nightshifts" Quinn agreed.

They finished the pizza, closed the windows and called a cab each. Santana was going to the Upper West Side, Rachel somewhere in Midtown and Kurt to the airport. Quinn had parked her car on the street. She had planned to drive all the way from New York to Ohio by herself. It was the first time ever and she had never felt lonelier. However, when she stopped for the night at the same motel as last time, she had never before felt freer.

…

Quinn almost felt like she was wearing a costume as she stepped into the _Kennings_ office in Boston. Her new business suit was black and incredible tight. She had tamed her hair into a strict bun and painted her lips red. In her arms was a black binder, with her grades and letters of recommendation. Far away was the cotton dresses and braided bangs.

"Quinn Fabray?" a woman asked.

She was in her thirties, wearing an identical suit as Quinn.

"Yes" Quinn replied.

The woman looked her up and down, made a face, and then shook her hand.

"Lisa Henry" she introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you."  
Lisa nodded curtly and began to walk. _Kennings _had a bigger office than Quinn had expected. People sat in small rooms talking or in front of big computers or spoke on the phone all over the place. Lisa told her nothing, just kept walking passed all the people whose work Quinn so admired.

"Here we are" Lisa Henry finally said and knocked at the door.

The sign outside read MIRANDA KENNINGS and Quinn started to panic. Again. She had panicked when a nice secretary had called her up to ask her to come in for an interview. She had panicked last night, not being able to sleep. She had panicked on the train. Miranda Kennings. Quinn hadn't expected the meeting to be with her. The founder, the CEO, the everything. Multiple award winning director Miranda Kennings.

"Welcome" another woman said, opening the door. "Mrs. Kennings will see you now."  
They passed through the secretary's room and into an adjoining office, facing the river. Miranda Kennings greeted them in doorway. Quinn had seen pictures of her and yet she astounded by how tall she was. She introduced herself and so did Quinn and they sat down. Lisa hovered in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"Quinn Fabray" Miranda Kennings said and how strange it was to hear her own name from her idol's mouth. "How lovely to meet you."  
"You too" Quinn said with too much feeling.

"You're graduating school soon, huh? Yale?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I went there too, did you know that?"

Quinn nodded. They had a classroom named after this woman at Yale.

"Lisa, did you go there too?" Mrs. Kennings asked her employee.

"No" she replied. "Berkeley."

"Oh, right. However, as you might know, Quinn, we don't take interns."

"I know."

"But Mary, that's my secretary who just let you in, she sometimes cheats and reads the applications anyway. She watched your short film and then called me to cry in the middle of the night."

Quinn smiled, half-wondering if this was some kind of a dream where a fairy godmother in the reincarnation of a secretary waved her magic wand.

"And Mary has good judgment" Mrs. Kennings went on. "And I watched your work too. It surely lacks in some aspects, but overall... It's your first project?"

"Yes, it is" Quinn confirmed

She had no idea what else to say. It was one thing to send in an application and a completely other thing to have someone praise you for it.

"I'm willing to make you an offer, Ms. Fabray" Miranda Kennings said. "a one year internship, starting in September. What do you think?"  
Quinn almost giggled. It was absurd. So easy. It felt almost like a joke.

"I think it sounds great" she replied.

"Wonderful. Lisa will be your supervisor. She's going to need a helping hand with all her projects and what's better than a Yale girl to help out?"

Lisa made a face again but said nothing. Quinn signed a contract with her full name. She shook Miranda Kennings (MIRANDA KENNINGS!) hand and Lisa's hand.

"Welcome to _Kennings_, Ms. Fabray" Mary the secretary said.

"Thank you" Quinn replied.

…

She didn't get the same motel room as last time, but it looked identical. The same dirty bed spread and the same kind of soap. It was just a little closer to the vending machine. She bought a bar of chocolate from it and ate it on the very spot where she and Puck had stood, a few weeks ago. Where he had kissed her, even though they weren't supposed to kiss. She stood there and chewed her chocolate and wondered why it felt like ages ago.

"Are you getting separation anxiety?" Santana drawled as she picked up the phone. "I saw you not five hours ago."

Quinn swallowed the last bite of candy.

"How are you settling in?" she asked, because she was taught to be polite, even in the moment of an epiphany.

"I've been here five hours, Q."

"Right…"

"What did you want to talk about? Lonely on the road?" Santana asked. "I'm guessing you didn't just call out of the blue."

"I'm romanticizing it, aren't I?" Quinn blurted out. "Me and Puck. What we had. I keep thinking back, to all these moments. Like when he moved in and when we went to that Yale dinner thing and when… I only remember the good things, right? I'm romanticizing."

"I don't know" Santana said simply.

"Then guess_. Please_."  
Quinn wondered if she was the only guest at the motel. The parking lot was deserted and all the rooms dark. It looked like a beginning of a horror movie, but she didn't feel afraid. Horror movies had never had much of an impact on her. Life was scarier.

"I think you had a great thing. I think that you loved him and he loved you and that you were happy. Not all the time, of course. But most of the time, the majority" Santana said, in her softest voice that wasn't very soft at all.

"Okay."  
"But I think you are romanticizing _him_. That he was good and pure and that you messed things up all the time" she went on. "He isn't perfect, Quinn. He isn't without fault. And you aren't to blame for everything."

If she listened carefully Quinn could hear the kids in the background. Tanya's kids, maybe playing some game before bed time. A pang of loneliness hit her again, as she stood outside the rundown motel in some town no one had ever heard of.

"It was my fault" she whispered.

"It was no one's fault" Santana argued. "Stop moping. It's been a year, and yeah, it sucked, but it's in the past."

"I need to get over it" Quinn said.

"Yes."

"I need to stop thinking that things will only be good again if he's with me."  
"Yes."  
She exhaled. And she thought that she would rather be here alone than with him, if he was still with Karen.

"Say hello to Tanya for me."

"I will. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah" she said, actually believing it for once. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

…

Quinn graduated college and invited all her friends and family to celebrate. They all squeezed into the tiny apartment and drank champagne and toasted her. Frannie and her fiancée had even flown in, just for the occasion. It had been forever since Quinn had seen her sister and when being a bit drunk, she hugged her tightly. Frannie laughed at they let go.

"It's so good to see you, Quinny" she said, patting Quinn's shoulder.

"You too. Really good."  
The fiancé's name was Eric and he was a bit too old and too stuffy, but Frannie seemed to like him so Quinn decided to do the same. She felt happy. School was over, no more essays or tests. No more Yale functions where she could barely keep her eyes open. And she had the internship starting in the fall.

"What's next?" her sister asked. "Mom said you got a job in Boston?"  
"Yeah. Well, not. It's an internship. I'm really excited about it though."

"I used to live in Boston" Eric said. "Great city."

"Eric went to Harvard" Frannie interjected, with ill-hidden glee.

He was exactly the type of man that Judy had hoped that both her daughters would end up with. Well-educated, handsome and rich. Eric was some kind of investment banker and Quinn had never seen him without a suit.

"What about Puck?" Frannie asked.

Her tone was careful and guarded. She was her father's daughter in some ways and one of those ways was about disliking Puck. Quinn knew that it probably still stung for Frannie to think about how Quinn had ruined their reputation by getting knocked up. However she was enough of her mother's daughter to forgive Quinn for it, and to instead blame Puck.

"He's going with me" Quinn replied.

"He's got a job?"

"Yeah, he's going to be a music teacher at a middle school just outside town."

"So he's basically dropping everything to go with you?" Frannie asked, sounding surprised and skeptical at the same time.

"He didn't have much here. Except me."

"Sounds pretty serious" Eric said, smiling nicely. "He seems like a nice guy."

Frannie made face, just for a fraction of second but Quinn had seen it. _Nice _probably wasn't the word that her sister would have used to describe him.

"He is. The nicest" Quinn said.

"You got a place yet? Daddy said he's selling this apartment."

"He already sold it" Quinn told her. "Another student is moving in. I met her the other day."

"Is he buying you a place in Boston too?" Frannie insisted.

"No."

"Really? He bought me my first apartment after college. I mean, before I met Eric and moved in with him."

"Well, dad and I don't have the same relationship you two have" Quinn said with forced lightness. "We're getting a loan instead."  
"_We?_"

"Puck and I."

Quinn stared into her sister's eyes, challenging her to say something dismissing. She did not.

"That's a big step" she said instead, which wasn't negative in the strict sense, because it was a big step.

"I know."

"Are you ready for it?"  
"We've already lived together since sophomore year."

"Yeah, but…"

"We had only known each other for six months when you moved in" Eric reminded Frannie softly. "That was a big step, but it felt right."

Quinn decided that she liked Eric, a lot. She checked over her shoulder and noted that Puck was refilling his mother's wine glass. They laughed at something. Quinn smiled too. There were more people from his family here than hers. They had all come, aunts and cousins and whoever, even those who she had only met once or twice. Her own father hadn't even RSVP'd.

"I mean, there's money involved, a loan… That's a big deal" Frannie went on.

"I love him" Quinn said simply, but it was not simply because she had never told another person than Puck that.

Frannie's face softened. She looked more like Judy when it did, less like their father.

"Okay, honey" she said. "I'll back off. You love him."

"Yes" Quinn whispered. "I really do."

…

Of course it was a bad idea to tell him to come to her house, but it was the best option she had. This wasn't New York or Boston where you could casually decide to meet at some café where no one you knew ever went. This was Lima which had only one coffee shop, where everybody knew who they were. And going to his house wasn't an alternative. Not while Karen still lived there.

"You wanted to talk?" he asked.

She felt like she hadn't seen him in ages. Not since they had baby-sat Beth and he had held her hand in the car. Since then she had again become obsessed with making a documentary, emptied out an apartment and made up her mind.

"Yes" she said, stepping back from the door to let him in.

He took his shoes off because Judy was anal about getting mud on the floor. They were white Converse, dirty and soft with wear. It was the same pair of shoes he had had when he had knocked on her New Haven apartment door all those years ago.

"Do you have a new project?" he asked, nodding at the living room table where she had piled all her stuff.

To anyone else, it probably just looked like a mess, but he recognized it. She was never one to clutter, except when she was editing. He lived with a mess just like that one for a long time. Once it had been part of their apartment's interior design.

"I'm remaking the documentary" she replied.

"Why?"  
"I have to know why they didn't hire me; what I did wrong."

It wasn't a secret. It was just that no one had asked.

"You did nothing wrong."

"I have to prove that to them" she said, going over to close her laptop's lid.

The machine was hot and made a lot of noise. She hadn't turned it off in days. She made a mental note to make a copy of the hard drive in case it decided to go on a strike. If she lost all the raw material, she would break and crash.

"I drive past her place sometimes" Puck said, his voice lower. "To see if she's back."  
Quinn stayed with her back to him. Every muscle in her body tensed.

"Have you seen her?" she asked, even though she already knew that answer.

Despite everything that had happened, he would still have told her if he had seen Alisha. Even if he had hated her, he still would have let her know. He wasn't evil.

"No" he replied, just like she had known he would and still she felt her stomach sink. "Not once."

She turned to face him. Her disappointment was mirrored on his face. But no. This was not the point of him being here. This was not the time to talk about old times and how they had ruined everything.

"We need to talk" she said.

"Okay" he replied.

"This isn't working. This isn't right" she began and then stopped.

Because she had this entire speech planned out and his face was messing it all up. She loved him enough to make her forget the speech and the purpose of it all, and that itself was the problem.

"I know" he mumbled. "I know."  
"I can't be around you like this. It's not doing me any good and I guess that Karen isn't thrilled about it either."  
"No, she's not."

"I don't know how to not think about you. The last five years of my life I have spent most of the time thinking about you. I… built you up and set you on some kind of pedestal in my mind."

He looked down at his feet. He wore black socks without any holes. He was about three steps with those feet away from her and suddenly it felt too close and too far away at once.

"I spent this entire year punishing myself for the mistake I made. I made myself miserable because it was what I deserved. But I'm not going to do that anymore" she went on.

"Okay" he said simply.

"I only stayed here for you. Because I love you. Because I still have this idea of you and me and growing old and playing bridge and drinking tea on some porch somewhere. I hate Lima. I hate being here, but I love you so I stayed."

He said nothing. He didn't need to.

"I'm going to stay for a bit longer. I have to start caring for other people than myself and my mom's first on that list. And I want to spend some more time with Beth. Than I'm going to leave."

"I'm not going to stay here forever either" he told her.

"I know. I know. I'm just making it clear that I'm going to move on, Finally. I'm going to stay a bit longer, but not for you."

He finally looked up from his feet. His brown eyes, Beth's brown eyes, looked at her and she wanted to take it all back. She wanted to beg him for leave Karen and pick her instead. She wanted to grovel on her bare knees.

"Maybe, in a while, we'll be able to do things together, with Beth. Maybe we'll be able to drive here together again. But not now. Not yet" she concluded.

She cleared her throat and backed away a bit. There were now five steps between them.

"You still love me?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yes" she replied. "Of course I do. You know that. But that's not the point."

"You broke up with me."

"You know why I ended it."

He nodded slowly.

"You didn't have to tell me this" he told her seriously. "You didn't have to tell me about moving on."

"I'm not going to run this time" she said. "I'm showing you, for what it's worth, that I'm done running."

He nodded and she nodded and then he left. No hug or kiss or even a handshake. He was just gone and Quinn knew that she would not see him for a long time. She clenched her teeth and drank two cups of coffee and didn't cry a single tear because she hadn't lost him now; she lost him a year ago.

…

"It's too big" she told Puck seriously in a hushed voice as the realtor turned away.

"Nah, it's not" he argued. "You're just used to the old place; you know where you could barely turn around in the kitchen."

She rolled her eyes at him and peered down the pamphlet in her hand. This place was lovely with a semi-new kitchen and windows in every direction. The area wasn't too dodgy either. But it was too big.

"We don't need two bedrooms" she said. "Or do you want your own?"

"You have a lot of stuff" he grinned.

"I do not!"

There were other couples there too, mostly a bit older and some with kids. Everyone spoke quietly, as if not to let anyone else know how great the apartment really was.

"We can't afford it" she said. "You know we can't."  
"We can."

"I have an internship, which equals no salary."

"My mom will help us with the money if that's an issue. She told me."

"Your mom doesn't have this kind of money, Puck. Neither does mine."

"I promise. We'll work it out."

She sighed. This was the first apartment they were looking at. She had just humored him by agreeing to see it. It was too expensive, too big and a waste of time.

"We might not need a second bedroom right now" he said.

"No" she agreed.

"But we might. Soon."  
"What do you mean?"  
"You have to plan for the future, right? You're usually such a pro about that, Q."

"I see nothing in the near future that would make it logical for us to buy a too big apartment" she hissed.

Panic flooded through her, because she understood now. He was planning. He was making plans for their future. For kids. Children. Babies. The thing he had always wanted and what she had feared since turning sixteen.

"I know an internship and a temporary job aren't the best conditions for starting a family. But I will probably be able to work without a degree the rest of my life and you will get hired by one of the best production companies in the world."

She slowly placed the pamphlet on the nearest available surface. He knew how afraid she was of having children. More children. Of messing them up. Of messing herself up. And here he brought it up like it was nothing.

"We're too young to think about that" she said sternly.

"Maybe."

"No, not _maybe_. We are."

There was finality in her voice that made him shut up. She stared harder at the other couples. Puck and she were not one of them. She was not one of the many carefree women who crowded this place. She was scared, of herself and everything and now of him.

"It's too big" she said for maybe the eighth time.

"Okay" he said. "Okay."

They left. He tried to take her hand on their way down the stairs but she wouldn't let him.

…

"Mom" Quinn said softly. "Mom, we need to talk."  
Judy looked away from the TV and smiled.

"About what, honey?"

Quinn's eyes took in the half empty wine bottle on the coffee table. She took in the dark circles under her mother's eyes and the unwashed hair. Years ago, Judy would never have left her bedroom looking like this. In some people's eyes it was a sign of health when you learned to care less about your own appearance, but Quinn knew her mother well. It wasn't a sign of nothing else than despair.

"I'm worry about you."

Judy laughed.

"What about?"

"Mom… I know it was hard when we all left you. Frannie and dad and me. I know it must be lonely."

She sat down next to her mother on the coach and muted the cooking show on the TV. Judy tilted her head to one side.

"You don't have to worry about that, honey" she said dismissively.

"I think I do."

"It's been a long time since you all left."

"Mom, are you really happy in this big, empty house? You could sell it. Buy a small place or go traveling or something."

Judy laughed.

"Me? Traveling? I've never been anywhere."

"Even the more reason then."

Quinn felt her mother's hand on her shoulder. The pink nail polish on her fingers was almost entirely scraped off.

"Quinny, it's not your job to look after me."

"Well, I don't have job right now, so I guess I need to something to do."

"I'm fine. I promise."  
Quinn took a deep breath. This was the second big speech she had written in a few days. The Puck speech and the mom speech.

"Mom, I think you drink too much."

Silence filled the room. Judy's cheeks turned pink before she laughed.

"I don't."

Quinn dropped the subject. She regrouped and tried to find another way to solve this issue.

"Why don't you come with me? I'm not going back to New York. We could get a place together somewhere, you and me."  
"You don't want to live with your mother."  
"I don't want to be alone" Quinn said honestly. "And I don't think you do either."  
Judy exhaled.

"Then we have to learn, darling. You have to get used to living alone. I'm still working on it but we can't always depend on other people to be there for us. We have to handle ourselves."  
Quinn opened her mouth and then closed it again. She realized that her mother was right. She would have to adapt to living alone, wherever she was headed. She couldn't rely on Puck or Santana or Rachel to take her in.

"Just think about it" she said. "About the house thing. And the traveling thing."  
Judy nodded.

"I will."

They sat quietly for a long while. It really wasn't that strange that Judy didn't want to admit her darkest secrets to Quinn. It had been a long time since they had had that kind of relationship.

"Mom, do you want to know what happened between me and Puck?" she asked cautiously. "I haven't told you, have I?"

Judy reached over to the remote and switched the TV off.

"Yes, honey. I really would like to know."

…

"It can't be a surprise to you that I want kids" Puck told her, his voice too loud and too intense.

"And equally it can't be one that I don't" she retorted.

It had only been a matter of hours before the fight had begun. The fight that had been waiting to happen for years. This was the only thing they could never agree on or compromise about.

"I'm not saying it's time now. I mean, in a year or two" he went on.

"No" she said. "I can't do it."

"You don't know how you're going to feel in a year."

"Neither do you."

She felt her body pulse along with her heartbeat. It had been years since she had been this angry. She felt betrayed. He was the one person she had trusted with everything and now it seemed like he didn't care what she thought.

"I know you're scared but it will work out…" he began.

She cut across him.

"No. It won't. Things don't just _work out. _God, you haven't changed at all, have you? You were the same when I was pregnant. You kept telling me that we could work it out, that it didn't matter that we didn't have any money or any support or that we were just kids. You live in this illusion of that a family will make everything okay."  
"We could have done it" he said, still stubborn. "I know we could have been good parents."  
"No, I wouldn't have been. I wasn't in any shape to take care of a child. I still am not. That won't change just because you want it to."

It struck her that this might be the end. If they couldn't agree on this, their future was doomed. She even considered agreeing with him, just to keep him, but she couldn't. Quinn would do a lot of things for him. Almost anything. But not this. She couldn't.

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" he asked harshly.

"The baby could turn out like me."  
"Come on…"

"You should know how bad parents can mess you up. You and I are the text book examples of it. Remember how your dad quit on you and only reappeared to get money? Remember how my father threw me out on the street when I was a teenager?"

He was angry now; livid. His face turned hard and his eyes black and he had never looked at her like that before. She wanted to run. Instead she backed away. He didn't advance on her.

"So, that's it? You made up your mind for the both of us?"

"I just know that I can't. Not now, maybe not ever."

"I want nothing else than to have a family" he told her, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. "It's all I ever wanted."

"You know me" she cried. "I haven't lied about this. I haven't kept you in the dark."

"You can't be scared forever" he told her, his voice loud again.

"It won't go away just because you're screaming at me."

She thought that this was thing that would destroy everything. All this years for nothing. He wanted a family, multiple kids, and an opportunity to be a better father than his own had been. If she didn't want the same thing, he would leave her. There was no other way out.

"So I'm supposed to just accept that?" he shot at her. "Accept that the only child I will ever father is one that you decided to give away?"

He walked past her and left the apartment. The door slammed behind him. Just like it had when Russell had stormed out that time. Everyone was leaving her. She was just going to have to get used to it.

In the end, he came back. They talked and agreed to get an apartment with only one bedroom for now. But looking back, Quinn still thought of it as the beginning of the end.

...

_Hi! Just wanted to say thank you for the comments and review you give me. Thank you! You are all wonderful people._

_and also, I wrote this chapter listening to the new Pink song,_ just give me a reason,_ which is normally not the kind of music I would listen to. I just felt like it related so much to this story. _

_and sorry for it taking forever for me to write this chapter. i will get better, i promise._

_thank you again!_


	9. running in circles

Hannah was sorting out which clothes to bring with her to college. Quinn sat on her bed and gave advice while the rain poured outside. Puck and Karen weren't in the house, Quinn didn't know where they were and decided not to ask. She was here to see Hannah after all, not them.

"What about these?" Hannah asked, holding up a pair of jean shorts.

"There's summer in Pennsylvania too you know."

"A yes then?"  
"Yeah."

"It's really raining, huh?" Hannah commented.

"Yeah" Quinn said again absently.

Her gaze slid over the window and she wondered if Puck and Karen were outside and if they were wet or… She stopped herself and turned her attention back to Hannah who smelled the inside of a sneaker.

"Just put them in the freezer" she said. "The smell will go away overnight."

"Mom said the same thing. Sounds weird."

Quinn laughed.

"Yeah, I guess it does."

Quinn began to fold the clothes that Hannah had decided to leave in Lima. She held out a pink t-shirt with butterflies on it and smiled. It was the kind of shirt that was okay to wear in High School, but not in college.

"Do you think about it a lot, Quinn?" Hannah asked. "The fact that you are a mom too?"  
"I'm not really, though."  
"Like I'm not really an aunt?"

"Hannah…"

"It's just weird, isn't it? I see them around all the time, Beth and Shelby, and I'm not _allowed _to go up and say hi."

Hannah was looking down at the sneakers, at the floor, away. Quinn sighed heavily.

"It's Shelby's rule, Han. She has all these pamphlets about not complicating thing more for Beth."

"She will never know me? Or mom? Or your mom?"

"I don't know" Quinn said honestly.

She had been so preoccupied with how much more she had been allowed to see Beth this summer that she had forgotten about everyone else. Her mother never mentioned it, they never spoke of the face that the first grandchild belonged to someone else. Quinn realized she had been selfish.

"What can be bad about having a big family?" Hannah asked earnestly.  
"I don't know. Nothing, I guess."  
Puck's little sister looked frustrated and her cheeks flushed to pink. Quinn hated how much she had messed up other people's life by getting pregnant all those years ago. And she hated herself for forgetting about it.

"She looks like you" she said. "Don't you think so, Han? She really looks like you."

"Maybe."  
"Look, this will never be easy. Not for you or me or for Beth. There is no right or wrong way to handle it, but Shelby decides. I signed off my right to Beth a long time ago and with that I also signed away all of your rights. It's not fair, but it's me you should blame."

"I don't blame you."

They sat in quiet for a few minutes. The rain kept pounding against the window and the sky turned darker every second. Quinn should probably leave before it started to thunder. She didn't want to be stuck here if Puck came back.

"Do you think you will want to have more children someday?" Hannah asked.

"No" Quinn replied instantly, like a reflex.

"Really?"

"I don't think I would be a good mother."  
"Why not?"  
"I'm not compassionate, I'm not… I just know that I wouldn't be."

"Is that why you and Puck broke up?"

The question was blunt, but Hannah's voice was soft and curious and careful. Quinn wondered how many times she had wanted to ask her brother this and never dared. Somehow it felt nice that she trusted Quinn enough to ask.

"Partly, yes."

"Maybe you'll change your mind and you can get back together."

"It's not that simply."  
Hannah exhaled.

"It never is…"

Quinn smiled.

"No, I guess not."

They heard footsteps on the stairs and Quinn froze. But the feet on the wooden floor were light and it was Elisabeth Puckerman who stepped into her daughter's room.

"Dinner's ready, ladies" she announced.

"I better get going back" Quinn said, getting up and peering out of the window.

"He's not coming home tonight" Hannah said.

"_Hannah_" Elisabeth mumbled.  
Quinn wanted to ask why he wasn't coming home. Where was he? Had he left town for the summer and not told her? She had asked to be left alone, to move on, finally, but the realization of not seeing him made her stomach ache.

"Please stay" Hannah begged.

"The weather is getting worse" Quinn insisted. "I better go home now before…"

"Quinn" Puck's mother said softly. "Please stay. You, me and Hannah. My daughters, who are both leaving again so soon. What will I do without you?"

Quinn swallowed. He wasn't coming home. She nodded. Hannah clapped her hands together and led the way down the stairs. She passed his room and saw a pink bag inside filled with Karen's clothes. This told her two things; they slept in his bed together, which wasn't a big surprise but still felt uncomfortable for her. And they hadn't left for the summer. They were coming back. Quinn wasn't sure if she should be soothed or worried about that fact.

…

Frannie married her fiancé Eric on the first day of autumn. Quinn stood next to her in a peach colored dress and held the bouquet during the ceremony. Eric swore to love Frannie until the very end and she echoed his words in a hushed, awestruck voice. He placed a ring on her finger and kissed her lips carefully and then suddenly she wasn't a Fabray anymore.

"I'm so happy" Frannie gushed into Quinn's ear.

Quinn squeezed her sister's hand briefly before she was pulled away for photos and smiles and congratulations. Judy and Russell sat together on the first bench. Quinn knew that he had a new girlfriend, Frannie had told her during the bachelorette party, but she wasn't here today. Quinn was relieved that her father had had enough grace to leave the new girl out of this, to at least give the impression of that they were still a family. She didn't say hello to him though, just nodded vaguely and went to find Puck who was hiding in the back.

"There you are" he said happily, pulling her closer by the waist and kissing her.

"Here I am" she said as if those three words had some meaning and maybe they had.

"That was a nice ceremony" he said tactfully.

"Yes" she said, at first earnestly, but then smiled evilly. "Did you like part when the white doves were released the best or when we all had to sing _My Heart Will Go On_?"

Puck grinned.

"Both. I can't choose."  
She wondered if he was thinking about marrying her. If this spectacle of a wedding had made him inclined to ask her. She wished he wouldn't. And she wished that he would. It would be the final proof. If they were to be married, they were unit, they would have to sign papers and swear to God and he couldn't just leave her. It was an insurance against being alone. But she wasn't ready; she was too young and too fragile and they disagreed on one very specific issue.

"Too bad you and I can never get married" he said, sighing loudly and slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"Why not?" she played along.

"I'm Jewish, remember?"

"So?"

"What venue would we chose? A church or a synagogue? A reverend or a rabbi? Do you convert or do I?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh, darn" she exhaled, fingering the cross necklace that had hung around her neck for years and years. "I knew this religion thing would end up making life difficult."

"And another thing, I don't think your daddy likes me very much, Q. He probably won't pay for your white doves."

He pouted and she laughed and kissed his newly shaven cheek. He smelled like cologne and fresh air. She thought that she had him, with or without a binding contract. And if she ever felt like it, she would ask him to marry her. He wouldn't say no, she was sure. He was better at accepting surprises and big gestures than she was. They could elope, to France or New York or wherever. They would get some old man and his wife off the streets to be witnesses. They would kiss and eat a restaurant dinner and kiss again in a cab somewhere new. She didn't need her daddy to pay for that.

"He seems like a nice guy" Puck said, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Eric, I mean."  
"I'm sure he is" Quinn agreed.

"Do you think they'll be happy?"  
"I think Frannie is so in love with idea of being married and having a family that it doesn't really matter who the guy is. But yeah, I think they will be happy together."

"He did agree to release birds inside a church" Puck agreed. "He must love her."  
They took pictures for hours, of Frannie and Eric, and only Frannie and of Frannie with her five bridesmaids. The last one the photographer insisted on was a family portrait. Quinn stood next to her sister outside the white church and clamped her hand as the flashes went off. Her father stood on her other side. She noticed a ring one his left hand. A new ring. He was married or getting married and she hated him with more intensity than she had in long time.

…

"I bought us tickets to Paris!" Judy announced radiant with glee. "You and me! Two weeks in France!"

They left the next day and flew down the French capital. They told no one goodbye and laughed about it, even though it was more sad than funny that no one would miss them. The Eiffel tower looked small and the Mona-Lisa tiny, but Paris was huge. They drank red wine, just a glass per night because it was too hot to drink more. The cobbled streets hurt their feet and all the bread was white and Quinn loved it all.

"We went here on our honeymoon" Judy said the fifth evening. "Your father and I."  
"I know."

"I don't remember it being this beautiful."

Quinn wanted to say something about her father ruining everything, but she didn't, because more mentions of him might ruin this dinner too, just like he had destroyed so many before this one.

"I think her name is Jessica" her mother went on. "The woman he married."

Her gaze was fixed on the street. People passed them, talking rapidly in French or Italian or Japanese. Paris was never quiet. Just like the Bushwick apartment when Quinn had sought company and noise. People everywhere, talking and arguing and singing.

"He will probably cheat on her too" Judy sighed.

"Probably" Quinn agreed.

A waiter brought her a dessert even though she hadn't ordered one. He blinked at her and disappeared. Quinn handed her mother a spoon and they shared the chocolate fondant as the sun set.

"I've been thinking about what you said, honey. About selling the house or… doing something with my life."

"Good" Quinn said.

"You're leaving again soon, right?"  
"Yes."

"There's really no reason for me to stay in that town."

"If you feel that way, then no."

"Frannie's in Connecticut. They have the house and the kids. And did she tell you that she's pregnant again?"

"No, I haven't talked to her in ages."

"Around Christmas, she told me. Then she'll have the twins and a baby to take care of. I mean, Eric is wonderful, but he has to work."

Quinn nodded.

"You should help her" she said softly. "Mom, she would love it you were to move closer to her."

Judy smiled. In the evening light she looked young again, not worried, almost excited. She talked for an hour about how she had already looked up apartments online and found someone who might want to buy some of their old fashioned furniture and what she might get for the house. Quinn nodded and agreed and felt both hopeful for her mother's sake and scared for her own. This left no plan B. She had to move back east, get her own place and a job.

"More wine?" the waiter who had given her the dessert asked politely.

He was tall and dark and she decided to let him be the first boy she had kissed besides Puck in almost five years. They paid and she lingered and he kissed her against a cold wall. She didn't remember his name and didn't want to know it. He tasted all wrong, but that was fine for now. He was supposed to be different. When he wanted to go to his place, she shook her head and took a taxi back to the hotel. Baby steps, she thought, as she undressed in the pitch black room.

"Did you have fun?" Judy asked into the blackness.

"Yes."

"Were you safe?"

"Yes" Quinn replied.

But that was a lie, of course. For the first time in a year she had done something that wasn't completely safe. It felt thrilling in a way she had forgotten she was able to feel.

…

They all told her that she would grow sick of it in the end, the endless editing and making phone calls and getting coffee for Lisa. Quinn never argued and secretly agreed with her new colleagues. She would probably hate it, maybe even soon, but now she loved it. Working wasn't like school, everyone told her that too and it was sometimes true and sometimes not. Everything she had learned at school was useful here, everything from history and geography to knowing how to work computer programs. But this wasn't a competition. They were a team. Quinn and Sam and Betty and Clarke and Lisa all worked together day after day, trying to finish series that already scheduled to air on PBS next year. And Lisa might hate her, but that was fine. Quinn was used to people hating her.

"You love it, don't you?" Puck asked.

She nodded and felt guilty because he wasn't settling in at the school where he was teaching. The kids were older and more troubled and there was more of then, crowded in tiny classrooms with bad ventilation. He came from work with headaches that even aspirin didn't seem to cure. She massaged his temples with soft fingers and with a feeling that nothing she did really mattered to anyone but her.

"You should try and find somewhere else to work" she told him.

"Nah. Just think of all the teachers that have given up on these kids."

"They're not your responsibility" she argued.

"They are kind of are, though."

She didn't understand him, how he could be so impossibly selfless and how he could still love her when she was not.

"You are doing your thing to help kids, and I'm doing mine" he said softly and she thought that is wasn't the same thing.

"I'm working with a documentary series about the evolution of gardens and gardening."

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her and kissed the bridge of her nose.

"You know what I mean" he told her, but she didn't really.

She looked around their new apartment and thought how lucky they had been to find this place. She adored it, every nook and cranny. It was bigger than their old place, but not too big, The windows were bigger and the ceiling higher. She thought about that if Puck hadn't loved this apartment every bit as much as she did, he might still be talking about buying a bigger place. With space for kids and toys and cots. And she wondered how much longer she could delay having that conversation again. How much longer she would prevail before having to see the disappointed look on his face and feeling dread in her throat.

"Are you sorry we moved?" she asked instead, her face against the skin of his neck, kissing away the headache and everything else she could muster.

"Of course not."

"You loved your old job."

"I'll love this one too, I promise. I just have to adjust" he assured her. "I haven't heard you say that you loved something you did in years. That's good enough for me."

"I liked Yale" she said defensively.

"Yeah, because it would lead you to this. This is your dream, Q. I'm so happy that we moved here so that you could pursue it."

She wondered if he was aware of how bad he made her feel. Selfish and self-absorbed and mean.

"What about you? What's your dream?" she asked, desperate to make plan for him, to travel to India or go skiing.

"I have you. That was my dream. Everything else is just a bonus" he grinned and turned around and kissed the hands that massaged his head.

She laughed as he wrestled her down on her back on the couch. She giggled as he pulled off her blouse and kissed her exposed skin. But silently she knew what that bonus was. And she could never give him it.

…

When Judy and Quinn stepped out of the taxi, she spotted him immediately. He sat on the doorstep, silently, motionless, not reading a book or listening to music. She wasn't surprised to see him, not really. Not that she had thought he would be there, waiting for her, it just wasn't that strange her that he was.

"Hello Noah" Judy said happily, kissing both his cheeks in the Parisian way she had picked up.

"Mrs. Fabray" he said politely. "You want help with that suitcase?"

She shook her head.

"No thank you, honey."

She unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Quinn stood in front of him. She didn't ask why he was there. She didn't mention how she had asked to be left alone, because she needed to move on. There was no point. And she understood.

"How was your trip?" he asked.

"Wonderful" she replied, sitting down next to him on the hard stone door step.

Too close, of course, but even if she had stood eight feet from him, it would still have been too close.

"Where did you go?"

"Paris."  
"You've been gone a long time."

"Only two weeks."

She wondered how he had known that would be coming home today. Or if he had known. But she didn't ask that either. It didn't seem to matter.

"Does Karen know you're here?" she asked instead.

"Yes" he replied because he never lied.

"Okay."  
She was jetlagged and tired and smelled of sweat. She longed for shower, but longer for him more. He was like a basic need to her. Food and water and air and him.

"You didn't tell me that you left" he said, not accusingly, just stating the facts.

"No, I didn't."

"I thought you had gone back east."

"No, not yet."

He had bit down the nails on his fingers. She had never seen him do that before. It seemed like something she would do, not him.

"I'm going it. Getting the degree. I made up my mind."

"That's great" she said softly. "Your mother will be so proud."  
He smiled. She swallowed and reached for her phone. She turned it on for the first time since leaving America fourteen days ago. She had five missed calls and seven text messages. Most of them from Santana.

"I don't like it when you leave" he said. "I never have."

"I know. I'm sorry."  
"Don't apologize. You don't have to tell me anything."  
"I didn't run away. It was just a trip. With my mom. This wasn't me running again."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a long time. Quinn could hear her mother opening windows to clear the stuffy summer air out of the house. She didn't come out; didn't rush them.

"I kissed someone" she told him. "A man. A waiter."

"Why?"

She studied his face. He was not unaffected by this news, she could tell. It pleased and worried her.

"I wanted to try it."

"And how was it?"  
"Different."

"Different from what?"

"Different from kissing you."  
He nodded. Maybe he was thinking about how kissing Karen was different from kissing her. She hoped he didn't. She hoped he was thinking about her and the waiter and how jealous it made him feel.

"Mom's selling the house. Moving away."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah."

"No reason for you to come here then."

"There's Beth" she replied.

"Yeah."

He got up and stretched his legs. He looked so tall when she herself was sitting down. Big and important and wonderful. And of course being away from him hadn't helped. She didn't love him any less.

"I have to get back" he said.

"Okay."  
He nodded and looked at her and when she thought he was about to leave, he bent down and kissed her. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around his neck and as he pulled her to her feet, she followed without protest. He kissed her and she kissed him and tried to tell him things that it wasn't fair to say in words. And his kisses told her things too. Things that made her heart swell and ache.

…

It was the night before they were leaving for Lima to celebrate Christmas that Alisha turned up on their doorstep. She wore no makeup and her clothes were wet as she stepped into through the doorway. Quinn had no idea how she even knew where they lived now.

"Puck said I could come anytime" she said defensively.

"Of course" he said, taking her soaking coat. "Sure. Anytime."  
It was almost midnight. A hailstorm was plaguing the entire east coast and there she was, out of nowhere.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked.

"Fine."

She wasn't. Quinn could tell by the way she wouldn't meet their eyes. It was three hour bus trip from New Haven to Boston. Coming here wasn't something you did on a whim, because you wanted too.

"You're wet through" Quinn said and went to get some dry clothes from her closet.

When she returned, Puck was making hot chocolate and talked in a soothing voice. If he was worried, there was no sign of it. She herself wondered if her heart was banging loudly enough for the others to hear.

"Here you go" she said, handing Alisha a pair of sweats and a soft t-shirt. "You can change in the bedroom if you want."

She watched as the girl exited the living room and shut the door behind her.

"Did she say anything?" she hissed immediately.

Puck hushed her.

"Calm down" he almost mouthed.

He kept stirring the hot milk on the stove. She went over to stand right next to him, for comfort and so that he could whisper in her ear.

"She has a bruise on her face" he told her quietly.

"I didn't see it."  
"It hasn't turned blue yet so it's probably fairly new."

"Someone hit her."  
He nodded. Quinn exhaled slowly.

"If she came here, she must be scared" she whispered.

"Yeah, probably."

Alisha came back out. She looked like a child in Quinn's clothes and no makeup. Puck served her a steaming cup of hot chocolate and no one asked any questions. Quinn wanted to, but trusted his judgment to wait. He was the people person after all.

"Are you done with the documentary now?" Alisha asked. "Like… for forever?"  
Quinn latched onto something to talk about that wasn't concerning the mark on Alisha's cheek.

"It was my senior project, and now senior year is over."

"So that's it? It was just for some grade?"  
"Of course it wasn't" Quinn hurried to say. "I just… I'm not really in a position to decide what I work with at the moment. It's just an internship, you know."

Alisha looked away. Every breath she took seemed to drain her.

"Okay" she said finally.

"Okay" Quinn echoed.

She and Puck exchanged a look, and no, they were not going to Lima tomorrow. Their mothers would understand if they were a bit late. Quinn found a pillow and a blanket and covered Alisha will them on the couch. It was almost three in the morning when she herself curled up in bed and shut her eyes. When she woke up again at seven, Alisha was gone.

…

"Are you packing up to leave?"

Quinn shoved the cardboard box further into the car's trunk before turning around. Karen was wearing running clothes and had sweat dripping down her forehead. She looked like the epitome of health with her rosy cheeks and white teeth. Quinn felt disgusting with her hair in a bun on her head and sleep in her eyes.

"No, this is my dad's stuff. We're going to give it back to him" she replied.

"Right. Puck said that you're parents are divorced."  
"Yes."  
What in the world would bring up the subject of her parents when Puck and Karen talked? What about Judy and Russell had anything to do with her?

"Good to get out with the old, I guess" Karen smiled.

Quinn only nodded. She didn't understand the sudden perkiness. Karen had been civil to her in the supermarket, but stopping on her run to discuss family matters seemed over the top. They weren't friends. Not even close.

"How was Paris?" she went on asking.

Quinn gave in. Clearly Karen wanted to have a pleasant conversation and it seemed easier to give in to that then to be sullen and run off.

"Great. I can't wait to go back."  
"I know… I studied a semester in France in college, and oh my, I never got over it."  
Quinn smiled. She glanced towards the house where Judy was packing more things in more cardboard boxes. The move was really happening. The days of Fabray's in Lima were numbered.

"I'm getting ready to go back to Boston" Karen told her in a pleasant voice, like it was nothing of importance. "It wasn't really part of the plan to stay for this long."  
"Summer is passing quickly" Quinn commented, which was no really relevance to what Karen was saying but still seemed like a logical thing to say.

"Puck's staying. For Beth and his mom and to help Hannah pack."  
Quinn got the message. Karen was leaving and Puck was going to remain here and Quinn should stay away.

"I know he came to see you after you came back to Paris."

"Okay."  
"Puck doesn't lie" Karen sighed.

"No, I know."  
They stood facing each other for almost a minute. Quinn thought that the encounter was soon to be over, but it wasn't. It had just begun.

"Do you know how we met?" Karen asked. "Puck and I?"  
"You work at the same school."

"Yes. My first day I spotted him, talking to two boys who had been fighting. He was so calm and collected and serious. I think I fell in love with him right there. But then we talked, and he mentioned you, several times. Not to tell me he was unavailable, no, just because he wanted to. His girlfriend had said that and this and I knew I'd better get over the crush."

"Karen…"  
"And then one day, almost a year later, someone told me that it was over between you two. I was his friend, his colleague, and I just wanted him to feel better. We all did. He was so, so sad. Only kept his face for the students. I made him talk to me, and I hated you. Because you have broken his heart. And because even though you had, he still loved you."

Quinn stared at Karen's sweaty face. This whole situation was absurd. If a neighbor looked out the window, they would see two girls having a chat on the sidewalk, not picturing this love story or confession or whatever this was.

"And then I think he fell in love with me too. So quickly and wonderful and I made him happy again."

Quinn wanted to throw up. Karen was punishing her by telling her this. There was no other explanation. _I made him happy again_.

"But you know it too, right? Why he fell in love with me?" Karen asked.

"No" Quinn replied.

"Yes, you do. Because I am everything you're not."  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
"I don't run away. I stay and console. I have a stable income and apartment that I bought with my own money and a family that loves me. I'm happy."

"And I'm not?"

Karen just shrugged.

"He fought so hard for you. To make you better and keep you and love you, and with me, it's easy. I already loved him. If he stays with me, I will love him forever. We will have kids and a big house and grow old together. That was what he was attracted. I am everything you are not."  
Quinn turned away. This was all irrelevant. Karen knew nothing. Karen hadn't been with Puck that long, she was just girl and he was just a guy and there was nothing that they shared that was important. Karen was being naïve.

"I make him happy" Karen repeated.

"So did I."

"He has to choose in the end, between me and you."

"He already has" Quinn argued.

"No. He is with me because he couldn't have you. Now you're here and he pines for you and he has to make a decision. We have to make him make up his mind. I'm not the kind of person who sits home and waits while my boyfriend is with someone else. I have too much self-respect for that" Karen told her sharply. "And so should you."

"I do" she said.

"Good. Summer is ending and we can't go on like this."

"No" Quinn agreed. "No, I guess we can't."


	10. tell you i set you apart

"Quinn, can you come over here?" Lisa called from the other side of the almost completely empty office.

It was Friday afternoon, hot outside and most people had gone home early. Quinn hadn't. She was waiting for Puck to pick her and for their trip to Lima to begin once more. Lisa had gotten her own office mere days earlier and loved calling people in to see them, instead of stepping out three feet in to the main area. Quinn agreed without comment and entered the small room.

"Sit" her boss said in a voice that was at the same time too sweet and too pleased.

Quinn sat. The visitor's chair was one that Lisa had taken from the reception area where it had been used for hosting waiting clients. It was red and bright and looked very misplaced with the rest of the somber décor.

"We need to talk" Lisa said and Quinn guessed that she had been longing to use those four words for years.

"Okay."

"You've been here almost a year."  
"Yes."  
Quinn's heart rate increased. She had spoken briefly with Miranda Kennings about her internship coming to its end and Mrs. Kennings had promised that she and Quinn would sit down and talk about the future soon. Maybe she had delegated.

"We don't usually take interns and I don't know why they made an exception for you" Lisa said harshly in a soft voice, as if it dulled the pain. "It only gave you false hope."  
The message was clear. No doubt. Her time here was over. The shock was unexpectedly massive and almost pushed her into saying something. Scream _why _or cry or protest. But only almost. Quinn was too proud to beg and too polite to insist. And she didn't want to give Lisa the satisfaction.

"We close down the office in July, so it's best if you leave before that" Lisa went on, still in her sugarcoated voice and with the gleaming eyes of glee.

"Fine."

"_Kennings_ only hires the best. It's nothing personal, it's just a question of keeping our reputation."

Quinn noticed that she was standing up without realizing how it had happened. Her hands were curled into fists but she fought inwardly to keep her face blank. She showed nothing. It was her only defense at this point, to leave with her honor, without making a scene.

"That's it" Lisa said.

And Quinn left her office. She went to the kitchen and took her peanut butter sandwiches out of the fridge. She turned off her computer, took her purse and left. The doors made no noise as they shut behind her. She couldn't understand it. She was involved in Betty's new project; had been researching for weeks now and what was the point of all that if she wasn't allowed to stay? Was she really that replaceable?

"Hey" Puck called from his car which he had double parked outside the office building. "You're early!"

He grinned at her as she opened the car door and slid in. He kissed her and she could almost feel the happiness on his tongue. He was longing for Beth. She was breaking down inside. She was back on square one. Unemployed. With no goal. And he was delirious with joy.

"You're early too" she remarked.

"Couldn't wait. I just want to get on the road."  
He was playing classic rock and she couldn't stand the high notes and tacky lyrics. Her head was exploding. It had been a normal Friday afternoon and now everything was ruined. And all she wanted to was to tell him, to make him pull over the car and hold while she cried. But he was so happy. And she felt shame. Shame. Her dream was dead and it hurt and maybe they had all been right, this idea of her making documentaries was ludicrous.

"Only twelve hours left" he said, leaning over to kiss her again.

"Yeah" she said.

And for the first time in maybe forever, the anxiety of seeing Beth seemed so minor in comparison to what had just happened. The sun was shining and people were happy and the man she loved sat beside her, and still everything felt wrong.

…

"It's just for a few hours" Shelby promised.

"It's fine" Quinn promised.

Beth was already in the pool and only came up for air every ten seconds. Shelby hovered, staying but glancing repeatedly at her watch. She was going out on a date. Quinn was babysitting, by herself. Puck was busy with something, Shelby had told her. Quinn didn't want to know what. She knew that he would do almost anything to be with Beth and therefor this activity he had today must be very important.

"I'll pick her up later."

"It's fine" Quinn repeated in a calming voice she used to use on Rachel whenever she was waiting to hear back from a producer after an audition.

It seemed to work on Shelby too. Genetics was neat that way. Shelby looked nice with her hair curled and her makeup done. Quinn thought of the all the lonely women in this town. Her own mother and Puck's and Shelby. Too good for the men who had left them. Strong and independent and good mothers. She could be like them. Strong and alone.

"Beth? I'm leaving now" Shelby called out.

Beth ignored her and dived under the surface again. Her mother sighed heavily.

"Isn't eight a bit early to turn into a teenager?" she asked and shook her head.  
Quinn only smiled and then someone honked from the road and Shelby left in a hurry. Quinn sat down on the edge of the pool, dipping her bare legs in the blue water. This was the first time she had Beth all to herself. For an entire day. Perhaps it should make her head spin but it didn't.

"I've practicing" Beth said. "I can stay under the water for almost a minute now."  
"Really? Want me to time you?"  
She nodded. The dark hair was plastered to her face and the pink bathing suit stood out against her tan skin. A beautiful child, Quinn thought, but then again, probably most people thought that of their own children. It was probably something nature had created to keep mothers and fathers from murdering and eating their young. The only thing that would stop a slaughter was love. Quinn remembered a documentary she had seen about grey whales and how the mother whale had tried to hours to defend her calf from killer whales. And how when the baby was killed, she made a noise of defeat and sorrow. Unconditional love above all.

"Yeah."

Beth couldn't hold her breathe for a minute, not even close, but it was fun and they laughed and in the end Quinn slid into the pool too. She ducked under water and opened her eyes. Beth was looking at her under the surface. Quinn stayed under until her chest ached and her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She was good at torturing herself; pushing herself to the limit.

"How did you do that?" Beth asked wide-eyed.

"I've practiced" she replied.

Which was kind of true because the previous year had been a struggle to survive even though it felt like her lungs would burst.

"Can you teach me?" Beth asked. "Like you taught me how to cartwheel?"  
Quinn promised that she would and thought that if she didn't succeed, life would probably force Beth to learn to hold her breath anyway.

…

"Oh, Judy, they're lovely" Elisabeth Puckerman said, looking at the pictures of Frannie's newborn twins.

"I know" Judy said, on the verge of tears (again). "Clara and Lance. Clara Judith. Isn't that beautiful?"  
"It is."  
Quinn took the pictures from Puck's mother and looked again at her niece and nephews. They looked identical except the gender specific blankets; a pink for Clara and blue for Lance. They were tiny. Beth had once been that tiny too and now she was seven years old. Quinn still couldn't quite grasp it.

"Their birthdays will be only two weeks before Beth's" Puck said.

He was thinking of her too. It wasn't that odd. This entire weekend was about her. Earlier that day they had celebrated her seventh birthday in Shelby's garden. Quinn almost forgotten about what Lisa had told her for a minute. Almost.

"Grandchildren, the only good thing about your own children growing up" Elisabeth said airily.

"Yes, I see it now" Judy sighed dreamily and then met Quinn's eyes. "You know what I mean, Quinny. I know- Beth, but I never get to see her and…"

"It's fine" Quinn said. "I get it."

"It was just so wonderful to hold them. I never got to hold Beth. Not even once."

"I know, mom."  
Her reply was followed by silence. The summer evening was warm and Puck had invited them over for a barbecue. Hannah was out on a date, her first, with some boy from the synagogue. Quinn still hadn't told Puck about losing her job and her dream, and his hand on her thigh made her feel guilty about it. She would tell him, she told herself, tomorrow when he came over to her house for breakfast. This weekend was the only time of the year when they slept in separate rooms, in separate houses. The only two nights when she couldn't just reach out in the middle of the night and touch him.

"Well" Elisabeth Puckerman said. "Well, maybe soon they'll be more babies for us to gush over, Judy."

"Oh, I pray for it every day."  
Quinn tried to smile like it was all a joke, like they weren't really talking about how badly they wanted Quinn and Puck to conceive a second child, despite everything that had happened while she pregnant with the first one.

"Can you two at least give us some hope?" Elisabeth begged, elbowing her son in the side.

"I'd do anything for you, mom" he answered grinning. "You know that, but you know, I can't really decide it on my own."

"Quinny? You both have jobs, you have place to live, and you've been together since forever. What's there to wait for?"

No, she didn't have a job. And if she didn't get one, how was she supposed to support herself financially? And yes, they had an apartment but now that _Kennings _didn't want her, Boston was out of opportunities. Most the productions companies were in New York or LA.

"Don't you think it would make you so happy, honey? Having a child of your own? Don't you think?" Judy went on.

"No" Quinn replied slowly and silently. "I don't think having a baby would magically fix everything."  
"I didn't mean-"

"But you kind of did."

"Quinn…" Puck mumbled, taking her hand under the table.

She pulled away.

"It's not that easy, mom. I won't forget about Beth just because we have another child."

"Maybe not" Elisabeth interjected. "And no one is asking you to forget her. But maybe it will be easier to cope with the loss if you move on."

"No, it won't."

"Puck, what do you think?" his mother asked kindly.

"It doesn't matter what I think" he replied, almost bitterly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Quinn snapped, her cheeks flushed with anger at his flippant tone.

"If I had got a say in it, we would have kept her. You know that."

"I _asked _you. In hospital. I asked you if you wanted to keep her but you didn't say anything."

"I know you didn't want to."

"I did want to. But I thought ahead. Of what future she could have with us. Of what would happen to us and her. You were young and blind and naïve and I had to make the hard decisions."

Tears welled up in her eyes. Angry tears. Tears of betray. It been seven years and he still hadn't forgiven her. Seven years and nothing had changed.

"Come on" Elisabeth said softly. "Don't fight."

"We never fight" Puck said harshly. "I'm scared that if I ever raise my voice at her, she will run away and I will lose her forever."

She stared at him. At the face she loved and now hated for ruthlessly revealing her like this. His eyes were almost black with anger. She knew that she should back off and go home. But she didn't want to. She wanted to hurt him too, like he hurt her. And maybe she might have, if Hannah hadn't come home at that moment, with red cheeks and sparking eyes. Quinn listened to her talk about the boy and how he had bought her dinner and held out her chair. She listened but heard nothing.

…

"Shelby told me that your mother is selling this house" Beth said as they sat on the couch and ate ice cream.

Shelby still wasn't back from her date and it was almost nine o'clock. That was probably a good sign. Both for the guy and for Quinn. Evidently she was trustworthy enough to look after Beth for several hours in a row.

"Yes. She's moving closer to my sister."

"Your mom's called Judy, right?"

"Yes."

"What's your father called?"  
"Russell."

"Are your mom and dad divorced?"

"Yes."

"My grandparents. Sort of" she whispered.

"Yes" Quinn agreed. "Sort of."  
"I've never talked to them."  
"I know."

Quinn wondered if she should change the topic of the conversation. This was unsafe ground. She didn't know what Shelby had already told Beth and what Quinn was not allowed to say. There were all these rules and Quinn had a hard time remembering them. She tried to come up with something to say, something that would distract an eight year old from her own heritage. She came up blank.

"Why didn't you want me?"

The question caught Quinn off guard. Her mouth fell opened and her heart raced. Here it was. The question. The first and the last question. So simple and yet to incredible complicated. How could she even begin to explain?

"I did want you."

"You gave me away to a stranger."

"Beth…"

"Shelby says I'm not allowed to ask you."

"Why do you call her that, Beth? Why don't you call her _mom_ anymore?"  
Beth clenched her jaw, just like Quinn did when she was angry. A little piece of her amongst everything that was Puck's. It gave her strength and hope.

"She's not my mom."  
"Oh, Beth…"

"She's not."

Quinn wanted to cry and run and leave. She wasn't ready to talk about this. But then again, she would never be. And when she made the choice to give her child up for adoption, she had signed up for this kind of questions. Beth deserved to know. Everyone deserved to know where they came from.

"She keeps telling me that I will understand it when I'm older" Beth said with contempt in her voice.

"I'm twenty-four and I still don't get it" Quinn smiled faintly.

"What was wrong with me? Why didn't you want me?" Beth asked again, almost in a whisper.

"It wasn't like that. You have to believe me. I wanted you. I held my hands against my stomach and felt your kicks and heard your heart beat and loved you so much."

"Then why?"  
"Because of me. I was sixteen, just a kid. I lied to everyone and tried to hide it because I was so scared. My father kicked me out when he found out. I was all alone and terrified and couldn't handle it."

"You had Puck."

"Maybe. But we were so young. He wasn't even my boyfriend. I don't think your mom would want me to tell you this, but I had another boyfriend back then. One I didn't love. And Puck wasn't known to stay with a girl for longer than two days. I knew he would leave and I would be alone with a child."

"He didn't. He's still with you. Kind of."

"Yes, he is. And he always wanted you. He used to sing to you all the time. He couldn't understand why I couldn't keep you. Sometimes I think that he still doesn't."

"Did you ever change your mind?" Beth asked.

"Yes. A million times. I still do, but less and less, because I know you have good mother and a good home and a stable environment and I couldn't give you that."

Beth finally lowered her gaze. She was eight and Quinn was twenty-four and their ages would always be parallel like this, dependent of each other.

"I don't have mother then. You're not really my mom and Shelby's not really either."  
"Or you have two" Quinn argued softly.

"Do I have to call her mom?"  
"No. I guess not."

"But I can't really call you mom either."  
"I don't know."  
Beth smiled a tiny smile, the most honest smile she had ever given Quinn. It warmed her like the first sun in the spring.

"What about Puck? What if Shelby marries the man she's on a date with now? Will he be my dad?"

"Beth, I don't really think there's a rule book for these kinds of things. Call people what you want. Just maybe explain to Shelby why."

Beth nodded. She looked tired; sleepy after a day of swimming and eating junk food and thinking hard of all these things.

"I don't really have a dad either" Quinn said. "He kicked me out and then he left. And Puck's dad left too. No family is perfect."

"Why did you break up? Beth asked.

Quinn's instinct was to change the subject, but she fought it. She was their child in the end. She if anyone deserved to know.

"I think we were in bad place. I was, at least. I put up walls, to protect myself and he tried to reach me, to tear down the walls, but it just hurt me even more" she began and then stopped herself. "I'm sorry, I'm talking in metaphors."

"Did you want it to end?"  
"No."  
"Did he?"

"No."

"Then it seems stupid."

…

Her phone buzzed in the middle of the night, and she got up, and snuck down the stairs. He stood on the lawn, looking up at her window. The grass was wet and cold against the soles of her feet.

"Hey" he said.

"Hey" she said.

Sneaking out in the middle of the night to see your boyfriend was supposed to be full of with kisses and love and endless happiness. She just felt scared and vulnerable in an old t-shirt of his and bare feet against the chill of the night.

"I'm sorry" he said, and she wondered why she always let him say it first, always, in every fight.

"Me too" she said, too late, as always.

"I shouldn't have said all those things. Not in front of them. I'm sorry."

She nodded and then shook her head.

"But you meant them."  
He opened his mouth, but said nothing. She knew why he did it. He never wanted to lie, but right now, he didn't want to tell the truth either. She decided to save him, for now.

"Lisa asked to talk to me before I left. She told me that my time's up. I won't be needed back in the fall; not as an intern and not as an employee."

She said with as much distance and as little feeling as she could. As if it was something that hadn't ruined everything, for her and for them. His face fell at her words. His eyes became soft and he reached out for her. She felt like his arms were the only sources of warmth in the world.  
"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his skin. She never wanted him to let go of her, because if he did, she would be cold again, and maybe cold forever.

"Where does leave us?" she asked.

"I don't know, Quinn. But it's fine. We'll work it out. We always do."

"No" she whispered in despair. "It never works out. Never in my life has anything _worked out_."

Her tone was too bitter and too harsh for the early morning sunrise, and she stepped away from him. She didn't deserve to be held.

"This is what life is like with me" she told him. "Things fall apart and I fall apart and I drag you with me."

"Don't say that."  
"I don't want kids. Not now, and maybe not ever."

She felt bold for once. Almost fearless, suddenly. Perhaps it was the feeling of hopelessness.

"Let's not do this now" he said.

"Yes, let's. You obviously want to talk about it. You can raise your voice at me now; I'm already falling apart, it won't matter."  
"Stop" he said sternly.

He stepped forward and kissed her. A deep kiss filled with willing and love and hope. She closed her eyes and felt and felt and felt, until her senses ached with him. He was only thing, she thought, and that was probably the least healthy thought that had ever gone through her head. He was all she had now. And he was slipping away, inch by inch.

"I'm sorry for what I said about Beth" he told her, looking into her eyes and forcing her to look into his.

He had always been good at apologizing. She had always been terrible at it. Yin and Yang and all that.

"It's fine."  
"No, it's not. It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair."  
Her small moment of courage was over. She was scared again; scared to lose him; to fight; to see him leave.

"Please come up with me" she begged.

"Really? What about your mom?"  
"I'm twenty-three. We live together. I think she understands that we sometimes sleep in the same bed."  
He grinned. Like it was all fine now. She took his hand and went inside. Her wet feet squeaked against the floor. Her bed was much narrower than the one they were used to sharing. It worked out fine because then he had to be closer to her. Every inch of his body touched hers. Neither of them could turn without forcing the other to do the same.

"I love you" he whispered.

"I know."

"That's the most important thing" he continued. "I love you, so, so much."  
His voice sounded almost tormented as he said it, but she fell asleep before she allowed herself to think about it.

…

Her father looked older than he had just a year ago. His hair was greying and getting thinner. The lines on his face were deeper. She stared at him and he stared at her and she wondered if she should have called ahead.

"Here's your stuff" she said and pushed one of the huge cardboard boxes into his arms.

He took it. She went back to her car to get another one. The car ride to her father's house had taken almost four hours. Not once during those hours had she second-guessed the decision to unannounced appear on her father's porch with all the things he had left in with his ex-wife. Now she was here, parked outside the house her father owned with another woman, and doubt was rising inside her. But it wasn't crumbling doubt. And the look of surprise on his face had dulled most of her fear. She had the upper hand this time, for the first time, ever.

"What is all this?" he asked her when she returned with a second box, filled to the brim with books about the civil war that no one had ever opened.

"Your stuff" she said in a polite tone. "Mom's selling the house."

"She's selling?"  
"Yes. It's her house, remember? She got it in the divorce."

Since he hadn't done anything with the first box she had placed in his arms, she placed the second one at his feet and returned again to car. He followed her this time, still carrying the things he hadn't missed.

"You could have called."

"Yeah, I guess I could."  
"This really isn't a good time for company."

"I'm not here to spend time with you. I'm just dropping off your things. I'll be gone in three minutes if you help me."

She was serious. She had no plan of drinking tea and eating cookies with him. He was her father but she didn't love him. She could feel it now. Nothing. He was just a person who had made her life miserable. She placed the last box on the door step. The one filled with ugly china that once had belonged to her father's grandmother.

"Russell?"  
Quinn looked up and stood face to face with her new mother. Her father's new wife. She was young, 28 if Quinn remembered correctly. Young and lovely. A younger version of Judy Fabray in black jeans and a cashmere sweater.

"He's coming" she said soothingly.

Her father came around the corner and into view. His wife extended her hand to Quinn. The nails were sharp and pink and her skin soft.

"Hello, I don't think we've met. I'm Lindsey Fabray."

Quinn thought for a second about how she now shared a name with a complete stranger. It meant nothing of course, but at the same time everything.

"Quinn Fabray" she said, shaking Lindsey's hand. "Your husband's daughter. I guess he doesn't have pictures of me around."

"She just came to drop off some things" Russell said hurriedly.

"Quinn! Oh, it's so nice to finally meet you! Come in, please."

Quinn shook her head.

"No thanks. It's fine."

"Please."

Lindsey begged and when someone begged, Quinn was too polite to decline. They placed all the boxes in the living room before Lindsey ordered Russell to make coffee. He made moaning noise and left them.

"I've been dying to meet you" Lindsey said. "You and your sister."

"I'm sorry we didn't come to the wedding."  
"Believe me, I get it. I wouldn't be exactly thrilled if my father married a girl my own age."

Her tone was sarcastic and she winked at Quinn. She spoke of how important family was, how close she was to her own siblings. She asked Quinn questions about herself, about Frannie's children and even about Judy, in a polite and non-nosy way. By the time Russell returned with the coffee, Quinn thought that it had happened again. A good woman had fallen in love with a bad man. Her father had done it again.

"It's ridiculous that I haven't met your children, Russell" Lindsey said accusingly.

He made a non-committal noise. Quinn smiled.

"We haven't exactly the best relationship" she explained. "He kicked me out when I was sixteen and pregnant. I guess I never really got over that."  
Her father's face turned blood red. He opened her mouth to shout at her, but Lindsey cut across him. Her voice was soothing and mending.

"I know, I know. I figured that much out. I'm sorry for what you've been through."

Quinn nodded and looked at her father. An aging man. Who had had to start his life over because no one in his old life wanted him anymore. He didn't scare her. Frankly, right now it was hard to remember how he had never had that effect on her.

…

Quinn took her notebooks and crammed them into her purse. Nothing else on her desk belonged to her. Someone else would drink out of the coffee cup she had used for a year. Someone else would type on her keypad and stare at her computer screen and write with her pens. It would be like she hadn't ever been there. A faint memory.

"I'm so sad you're leaving" Betty said and looked like she meant it. "I never thought… I mean, I was sure you would get Jonathan's job."

"Where's he going?"  
"To Bali for some research thing, at least a year."

"I guess you'll have to do without the both of us then."

Betty hugged her. Quinn hugged her back but couldn't help but wonder why she had a job and Quinn hadn't. What did she have that Quinn hadn't? She was from Yale too, in her early thirties but incompetent when it came to computers. Sure, she was good with people and ideas and lovely, but how much better was she than Quinn?

"At least this will give you time to work on your own thing, You know, your project about adoptions" Betty tried.

"Yeah" she replied, instead of saying _with what equipment? _

Lisa was in her office with the glass door closed. Miranda Kennings was still out of the country. Quinn hovered for a minute or two longer, reluctant to leave. When she did, she took a cab to the train station and caught a train to New York. Santana greeted her at grand central station with an almost sympathetic smile and a cup of spiked coffee. They sat on a park bench and drank coffee and rum, and then just rum, and when they got too drunk, just coffee. New York buzzed and yelled and screeched. It filled every empty space in Quinn's brain.

"I'm unemployed" she said. "Four years of college, and still, here I am."

"In this economy, if you're not young and without a job, you're the minority" Santana sighed.

"Good for this white girl to finally be a minority" Quinn said.

Santana laughed. She was drunk and Quinn was drunk and it wasn't even evening yet.

"Did you tell Puck you were coming here?"

"Why do you ask?"  
"Well, last time you didn't, he was worried sick and you threw up."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I called him on the train, if you have to know."  
"Why are you mad at him?"  
"I'm not."

It was Santana's turn to roll her eyes. She fished out a cigarette from her purse and lit it and stuck it between her lips. When she blew out the smoke, she deliberately did so in Quinn's eyes.

"We had a fight. But we made up."  
"About what?"

"Stuff."

"Right…"

"Kids. Our kids. The one we have and the ones he wants to us to have."

"Shit."  
"Yeah."

"Will you ever be able to agree on that?"

"Probably not."

Santana offered Quinn the cigarette but she shook her head. Her mouth was already parched.

"If it was anyone else, I would tell you break up. Now. Before you get older and he gets more desperate to reproduce. I mean, it's a pretty big deal. Kids. If you want them or not. Life-changing really."  
"I know."

They sat quietly as a family passed them on the pavement. A mother and a father and two kids in strollers. Quinn hated them.

"I'm the one who always has to explain and defend my decision" she said loathingly. "No one asks him why he is so willing. I'm the odd one."  
"Tanya has kids. I haven't met them yet."  
"Who's Tanya again?"  
"Someone I met."

"How old is she?"  
"I don't know exactly. Thirty-five maybe. Two kids from a marriage to a man. They filed for divorce six months after the last one was born."

"Love doesn't equal love" Quinn concluded.

"No, but it doesn't wreck it either. Not always."

Quinn thought of herself and Finn and her family. And her pregnancy had torn everything apart. She thought of her parents whom had lived in a loveless marriage with two daughters. She thought of Puck's father who had left. Kids didn't magically fix everything. People liked to think they did, those little bundles of joy. Quinn was the only realist.

"Let's go home and watch one of those animal shows you love" Santana suggested. "I think Rachel and Kurt are both out tonight so we might actually be able to hear the TV."

…

He called her. She had deleted his number ages ago, but knew the digits by heart. She had called it so many times that the rhythm of it was still in her fingers.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"In the car. I'll be home in an hour."

"Pick me up at my house."  
"Okay."

Somehow she still felt empowered by the encounter with her father. Almost fearless and bold. She thought that whatever what he and Karen had decided, it didn't really concern her. Not really. She couldn't lose him more than she already had.

"Are you listening to my CD?" was the first question he asked, laughter in his voice.

She laughed too. His _Classic Rock Anthems of the 80's _had suited her mood. She had even sung along to songs she recognized as she drove too fast on the highway.

"I thought you hated my music" he said.

"I thought I did too."

The evening was soft and pale and the car seemed almost soundless as they drove round and round the center of Lima. She was caught in the car, she thought, she couldn't run away and hide. But it was comforting too, because neither could he. As long as she kept driving, they would be together.

"We can't keep doing this" he said.

"I know."

"I don't understand it. It's been a year. And I still don't feel any different about you."

A declaration of love. But too early. The _but _was about to come, she could feel it. _He loved her, but..._

"I think I love her too. Karen, I mean."

"You love people too easily" Quinn smiled.

"Are you jealous?" he grinned.

More jokes. First about music and now this. They were both evading the subject.

"She shouldn't have had to make me decide" Puck said. "I should have done it myself… I thought I had. I really thought I had."

Quinn said nothing. She drove passed their old High School so slowly that someone behind them honked. Puck didn't even flinch.

"She told me that she didn't want to be with me if I rather wanted to be with you."

Quinn suddenly envied Karen for having guts enough to say that. She wasn't there yet. Not strong enough to maybe get the reply she didn't want.

"She wanted you to lie" Quinn said.

"No, she didn't."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told you that you and I are over. That we have been for months. That I love her."

"And what did she say?"  
"That that wasn't the answer to her question."

"She's smart."

He smiled. She wanted to tell him everything that had had happened since they last spoke. She wanted to tell him about emptying the house and moving on. She wanted to tell him about driving to see Russell and standing up to him and not hating his new wife. And she wanted to tell him about Beth. What she had said and how proud Quinn was of what she had replied. She wanted to tell him all of that before he gave her the verdict. She felt like it would matter.

"She doesn't want to be a second-choice, and who would want to be?" he continued.

"She thinks you fell in love with her because she is everything I'm not" Quinn said.

"I know."  
"Do you think she's right?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

He exhaled loudly. She inhaled inaudibly. Yin and yang and all that.

"I told her that she's not a second choice. I told her that I feel like there's you, and then there's everyone else. You don't compete with each other."

"What did she say to that?"  
"A lot. But the point is, she broke up with me, or we broke up or something. She's back in Boston now."

He said it quickly, as if the words burned his tongue. Quinn nodded slightly. She felt deeply sorry for Karen. It was of course easier to feel that now when she was out of the picture. There was only the two of them left. She and Puck. Like always.

"She's not the reason we broke up though" he said.

"No."

"We broke up because we're so different. Because we couldn't agree on things. Because you have issues and I have issues and sometimes, that's not a good match."  
"I know."

This was the disclaimer. _He loved her, but… _

"I don't want to be left again. Never. That's my issue. Daddy issues, of course. Then you did it. Once and then twice. And then again, the final time. Left me alone. I never want that again."  
She kept her eyes on the road. Shame burned inside her. She hated herself for making him miserable.

"I think we should try. For real. To move on."

He spoke in staccato now. Swallowing after every word. She hated the words _move on_. She had never moved on from anything.

"I think it's for the best."

She nodded. Because she had broken up with him once and now he was doing it to her. It was only fair. He was scared. There was nothing shameful in being scared.

"I will love you forever" he said.

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will" he promised and he never lied.

…


	11. it's such a shame for us to part

"The kids are here" Santana said apologetically as Quinn stepped inside the door to Tanya's huge apartment in Manhattan. "It's Drew's weekend but he has the flu."

"It's fine" Quinn began but her voice drowned in the shouting of two boys sword fighting their way across the living room.

"Anthony, please, we're inside" Tanya called from the kitchen. "Try to stab your brother without yelling."

Of course it was no coincidence that Santana had invited her for dinner just a few days after the talk that Quinn and Puck had. That was the problem with sharing your best friend with your ex. Or the benefit. Quinn didn't mind. It was nice to leave Lima for a little bit. And she had never been in an apartment this nice before. Even the city seemed softer and less loud. She had hated living here so much during the last year and now she couldn't remember why.

"Sorry about them" Tanya said, greeting Quinn with a smile. "It's Drew's weekend but…"  
"…he has the flu. It's fine" Quinn smiled and hugged Santana's girlfriend.

They sat down around the dinner table. The boys ate hot dogs and the women ate a vegan dish that tasted like summer. They drank white wine and watched the sun set over the city through the huge panoramic windows. This place was nothing like the Bushwick apartment. When it was dark, Tanya took the boys to bed. When she returned, her hair was loose from the bun she had been wearing before and her blouse was wrinkled.

"How come kids never want to sleep?" she sighed, sitting down again and reaching for her glass. "God, I wish Drew was well. We had so much planned this weekend that we have to cancel."

"It's fine" Santana said, shrugging.

"How often are they with him?" Quinn asked. "Your ex?"  
"Too often I think sometimes. And sometimes I think not enough" Tanya smiled.

Santana twirled her wine glass round and round. She said nothing and that meant more than if she had. The old Santana had snarled something about annoying children, about sticky fingers and boys climbing into their bed late at night. But she didn't. Not in front of Tanya anyway.

"I babysat my daughter alone for the first time" Quinn said because she had no one else to tell.

"That's great. How was it?"  
"Scary. And nice."

"That sounds like perfect description of what it's like to be a parent" Tanya smiled softly.

Santana kept twirling her glass with the tips of her fingers. Quinn watched her intently, waiting for the sound of glass against wooden floor. It didn't happen. Tanya took the glass from her and carried it out to the kitchen together with the dirty dishes.

"I still can't believe you live in this place" Quinn said.

"Me neither. Sometimes I step into the elevator and I'm like _what am I doing here_?" Santana sighed. "And then I remember that I basically still make minimum wage entertaining elderly couples with my sweet voice and I feel that I'm worth it."  
"And then you unlock the door and get knocked off your feet by two kids?"

"Basically. If they're not glued to their iPads."

"I don't know what is harder to wrap my head around, you in this huge apartment or you as a stepmom."

"Hey" Santana said, pouting. "I've always seen myself as an excellent evil stepmom. Think Cinderella, without the mice and the weird pumpkin."  
Quinn laughed. It was nice to laugh. And not difficult. Her body was warm with wine and nice food and friends who cared about her.

"You like them though, don't you?"  
Santana shrugged.

"Sure."

"Or do you just love her?"

"Both. I mean, in the beginning, I just put up with them because I love her. Then I liked them because they're hers, you know, and how sick would it be if I didn't love her children."  
"And now?"

Santana shrugged again. She looked relaxed, her face soft in the moonlight. Quinn wanted to apologize for the past year. For being cold and distant, despite Santana's every try to cheer her up. She had never stopped trying. Never stopped shaking her shoulders and yelling her at her to get over it. Never giving up.

"I feel better" Quinn said.

"I know. I can tell."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're eating again. And laughing."

"Yes. Despite everything."  
"Yes, despite Puck not wanting to be with you" Santana said harshly.

Quinn nodded. There was nothing wrong with blunt honesty. It was better than denial.

…

Hours later she sat on a plastic chair and spoke with a policewoman. Her blood still pulsed violently inside her. Nothing seemed real. Or maybe it was too real. Reality had finally caught up with her, for real this time. She had escaped it all for too long; lived in some kind of fantasy with the love of her life and her dream job. She should have known that it wouldn't last forever.

"I don't know anything" she whispered. "I just knew that she didn't want me to film her at her house, because her father probably didn't want her to do the documentary. That's what she told me. I didn't think it was that strange… I mean…"

Her voice trailed away. It was because of her. Because of her stupid idea. Because of her hubris. Because she thought that she could help someone. Instead Alisha lay in a hospital bed with a broken nose and a concussion.

"Thank you" the policewoman said and Quinn stood up.

Her legs almost didn't carry her weight. She felt heavy and weak. Puck was suddenly beside her. His eyes were still dark with rage. She wanted to take his hand but they were curled into fists.

"She doesn't have insurance" he told her, sound unattached and cold.

"I'll fix it" Quinn whispered, turning on the spot, heading for somewhere where someone would help her do something constructive.

She couldn't bear standing around, without helping, with the guilt pulsing in every vein of her body. She had to move. He grabbed hold her wrist.

"Stay" he begged or ordered.

She couldn't tell.

"I have to do _something_."

She pulled herself free. He followed her. She wished that he wouldn't. He was so angry. At her. Probably. At least a little bit. He knew the motive of the beating. He knew how much she had messed up. Now worse than ever.

"Will you stand still for one minute?" he growled, frustrated with her.

"No."  
"She'll be fine."

"Then stop looking at me like you might hurt me."

He stopped. She walked away from him. It wasn't fair. She knew that he would never hurt her. Not with those curled fists. Never. But she didn't want him to look at her. His gaze made the shame burn with an intensity she couldn't stand.

"Quinn!" he called after her, too loud in the early morning.

She ignored him. She had no idea where she was heading. The corridors seemed endless and identical. She passed nurses and patients and windows and windows and windows. Her shoes made a monotone sound against the floor. She felt just like she had after she had signed the papers, all those years ago, signed away Beth to someone else. She had walked the corridors then too. Filled with guilt and sadness and hopelessness. Exactly like now. And she was falling, she could feel it. She was falling down again, down the same road of nothingness and fear.

"I'm losing you" he whispered as he finally caught up with her. "Aren't I?"  
She stared into his face. She loved him, so much. But not as much as she hated herself. She pulled away and this time he didn't follow.

…

"Did you think he would choose you?" Santana asked as they sat in Quinn's bed in the guest room.

"He didn't choose either of us. Not me and not Karen" she replied, not responding to the question intentionally.

"I know… But did you think he would choose you?"  
Quinn exhaled. The room was dark. Santana's leg was smooth against hers. Tanya had gone to bed and given them a few more minutes together, to process and move on.

"He kissed me. When I came back from Paris. He kissed me and I thought… It felt like it meant something, like he was telling me that he loved me."

Her words seemed futile and weak; the hopes of a little girl. She didn't know how to explain how it had felt when he had held her tight and kissed her on the doorstep of her house.

"He never said that he didn't love you" Santana acknowledged.

"I know. That almost makes it worse."

"How come?"  
"I love him and he loves me and here we are, pretending that the other one doesn't exist" Quinn whispered. "_Move on_. We tried that. I tried it for a year, look how well I did."

Santana snickered. Quinn envied her, envied the love she shared with a woman, a love that was unconventional and unexpected and effortless. A love that didn't seem to mind two children and different backgrounds and ex-husbands.

"Maybe it's the baby thing" Santana suggested.

"We didn't even talk about it."  
"He probably thinks that there is nothing to talk about."

Quinn didn't say anything. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark and her head was clearing up from the wine. She still couldn't see Santana, but she could feel her and hear her breathing.

"Is there something to talk about?" she asked imploringly.

Quinn sighed.

"I don't know."  
"You don't know? That's kind of a big step."

"Is it?"  
"Yes."  
"I spent the day with Beth. Did I tell you?"

"Yes" Santana replied softly, because Quinn had retold the story at least three times.

"She's perfect. I know that's a lame thing to say, but she is. She's smart and kind and I know Shelby's to thank for most of that. But…"

"But?"  
"She's always reminded me so much of Puck. How she looks and the way she acts. Everything she got from him. Except now, now I see myself in her too. The way she talks or maybe just says something or thinks. I see little pieces of me in her too. Me and Puck, together."

"She's your kid."

"Yes. Mine and his."  
"Are you sure you're not thinking like this because you miss him and would do anything to have him back?"

Quinn slipped down under the covers. She closed her eyes for just a second. She could fall asleep any second, she could feel it in every limb.

"Why do people decide to have kids, San?" she asked.

Santana slid down to a lying position too. It felt like a sleepover, the ones they used to have in sixth grade in Quinn's bedroom. Brittany would sleep on the floor, because she liked it, and Quinn and Santana would share the bed and fight for the covers all night long.

"I actually have no fucking idea."  
"Come on."

"I don't know, Q. Because they want to move their relationship to the next step? Because they're bored with each other? Because you're supposed to?"

"Yes" Quinn agreed. "Maybe all those things. Or maybe because you love each other. Don't you think that's a valid reason?"  
Santana didn't reply. They lay in silence for a long time. Quinn fought to stay awake.

"What are you going to do now?" Santana asked at last.

"I'm going to get my job back. Move to Boston again, get my own place and collect my old things from Puck's apartment."

"Good."

"I have no idea how to do it, though."  
"Oh, who the fuck knows?"

They fell asleep side by side on the guest bed. When Quinn woke up again at four, Santana was gone.

…

Quinn sat with her head in her hands in the hospital cafeteria, almost asleep, almost in tears, almost hopelessly lost. It was lunch time and the tables around her were filling up with other people, but she didn't even notice. The smell of badly cooked meat and French fries didn't reach her nose. She was focusing on breathing, in and out and then in and out again. Every time it took more effort to fill her lungs with air. That was why she didn't notice that someone was talking to her until Puck shook her arm.

"Quinn!" he said loudly, his voice in octave too high. "Quinn, Alisha's gone. Have you seen her?"

Puck and a new doctor, one with gray hair and tired eyes, stood in front of her. She tried to understand what they were saying. Alisha was gone? How?

"What?" she stammered.

"I was on the phone with the insurance company and when I came back to her room, she was gone."

Suddenly every sound and every smell of the cafeteria hit her and she felt sick. Her eyes began to water with the chock of her senses starting to function again.

"I haven't seen her" she almost whispered.

Because she had been sitting here. Alone. Instead of being with Alisha. Once again, she had messed up. And once again, the consequences were major.

"I'm calling security" the doctor announced, pulling out a phone and dialing three digits.

He walked away from them, speaking quietly into the receiver. A quick look at Quinn and Puck and then back at the wall. He felt bad for them.

"Why didn't anyone stop her?" Puck asked, outraged and worried.

"She wasn't here by force."

"She had a concussion! A broken nose that needed surgery. What is going to happen now?"

"Do you blame me?" she asked boldly.

He wrinkled his eyebrows, like he was thinking about it or how to lie or what she was talking about. For once, she couldn't tell what he was thinking. The panic she felt and his rage were building a wall between them. She was blind and deaf again.

"Come on" he mumbled. "Come on."

She didn't know how to _come on_ right now. He did blame her, and she didn't blame him for that.

"You still blame me for Beth too" she said flatly, though this was not the time or place to discuss it. "For what I did."

"Quinn" he groaned, frustrated.

"I don't need you to hate me for it. I hate myself enough."

He sighed. She craved for him to lie to her, just once, just there and then. She wanted him to tell her that it was all fine, that she had acted wisely and that Alisha's beating was the cause of someone else's stupidity. He didn't. He just looked at her. And she felt the bond between them snap.

"I have to go" she said, standing up and accidentally knocking over the empty cup of coffee.

"Go where? Alisha's missing. We have to call the police or…"  
"I have to go."

She turned around and headed for the huge glass doors. Her heart was beating her in her chest along with every step. She needed to get out, get away, or she would implode.

"Where are you going?" he called after her.

She didn't respond. Her pace quickened and so did her heart rate.

"This is the last time, Quinn. I'm not going to chase after you again."

The double doors swung shut behind her and she was completely and utterly alone.

…

For the first time as a costumer, Quinn stepped into _Al's Diner_ in Brooklyn. Shona looked up as the bell on top of the door chimed. A smile spread across her face as she made her way towards Quinn on the always sticky floor.  
"Hey girl, what are you doing here? Please say you want your job back, the new girl is useless."

"Sorry. Just wanted to say hi."

"Oh well, good for you, honey. You were always too good for this place."

Quinn sat down at a table and ordered a large fries and a coke. She watched Shona go in to the kitchen and yell to Paul to _get the fuck working. _She had had her baby three months ago, Quinn remembered. She looked tiny again.

"Here you are, sweetie" she said, placing the plate in front of Quinn and sitting down opposite her.

Shona was in her mid-thirties, had four kids and a deadbeat husband. She was the one who had taught Quinn the ropes three minutes after Al had hired her. Nice and tough and the old men loved her hips and tipped her well.

"You had the baby" Quinn said stupidly.

"Yeah, a little boy.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

Quinn took a fry. She had lived all year on these unhealthy pieces of potatoes. It had probably ruined her heart, but at least kept her alive.

"You back in the city?"

"No. Just for the weekend. I think I'm going to move back to Boston."  
"Boston… Never been there."

"I used to live there. Before... Before I came to work here."  
Shona nodded. She waved at a couple at the door to sit wherever they liked. _Al's_ was never crowded.

"I heard Jessie quit" she said.

"Yeah, moved to Los Angeles, do you believe it? All she ever went on about was being on Broadway and then she moved across the country."

"And Paul's useless as usual?"

"Yep. And Al's still a moron. Life here doesn't change much."

Quinn looked around at the faux leather booths and sticky tables and counter filled with donuts. At Shona's uniform that was too revealing and itched. She remembered how the windows were always dirty with a mixture of fat and fumes from the cars outside,. She remembered working night after night after night, almost tired and never happy.

"I'm probably the worst waitress in the world" she said.

Shona laughed.

"No, honey, you haven't met the new girl yet. She hasn't gotten an order right since she started here, but Al knows her daddy so she'll have to stay."

"I'm going to get my old job back. Not this one, the one I had before."

"Good for you, honey. What was it you did? Movies?"  
"Documentaries."

Shona tilted her head and smiled. She had a mom-smile. Kind and gentle and comforting.

"And what about the boy?"

Quinn looked down onto the table. She had never spoken about him. Never. Not a word. This was not a place where you opened your heart. This was the place where you complained about bad tips and Shona muttered about her kids and Jessie made them watch her dance audition for _Annie _ten times in a row.

"Who?" she asked stupidly.

"Was there no boy? We always thought so, me and Jessie."

Quinn opened her mouth and then shut it again. She could talk about it now. It didn't hurt as much.

"There was one" she confessed.  
Shona grinned vindictively.

"I knew it."

"How?"

"All those men, nice men, who gave you huge tips and smiled at you but you never noticed, never even looked them in the eye. I always thought that someone had broken your heart so badly that you were hurt for good."

"It was me" Quinn said. "I broke my own heart."

"I'm sorry, honey. But you look happier now. Have you found someone else?" Shona asked hopefully, stealing one of Quinn's untouched fries.

"No. I'll never find anyone else."

"You don't know that. You're young and beautiful and have your entire life in front of you."

"If I can't be with him, I don't want to be with anyone else. I'd rather be alone" Quinn said, with too much force. "There's nothing wrong with being alone."

Shona pursed her lips slightly. She didn't want to be alone. She fought so hard to keep her family together, to make it work with her husband and keep her children neat and clean. To her, Quinn was giving up.

"Who says you can't get him back?" she asked, not saying anything of what Quinn knew she was thinking.

"He did. He told me."

"Why did he do that? Did you ask? Beg? Plead?"

"No, not really."  
"Have you?"  
"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not good at begging."  
"Then just explain to him why he should be with you. Girl, haven't you seen any romantic movies?"

…

"You're a fucking train wreck, did you know that?" Santana hissed or screamed or shouted.

She handed Quinn a cup of too hot coffee so forcefully that the liquid spilled onto Quinn's lap. When Santana was angry, she was angry. And Quinn loved it. She relished in being yelled at and shoved through doors and handed cups of coffee that spilled onto her thighs. She deserved all of it.

"Yes" she replied meekly.

"You left him? In the hospital? Just like that?"

"Yes."

Santana shook her head vigorously and left the room. Well, not the room, since the Bushwick apartment only had one room with bookshelves that split the room into sections. Santana went back into the kitchen section and Quinn sipped at the coffee. It burned her tongue. She licked at the soreness, felt it sting and hoped it could sting forever. Kurt and Rachel had disappeared as Quinn had knocked on the door. She could see the fear in their faces, no one wanted to be around when Santana got pissed.

"People would kill to get what you had. And you just _left _him?"

"I...I-"

"And he just let you go? He's a fucking idiot too."

Quinn couldn't see her but she could hear Santana rummaging through cabinets in search of something. Probably a dagger to stab Quinn with.

"You have been in love since you were teenagers, no, don't deny it, you have. You had a baby together. You lived together forever, literally forever. Everyone thinks you're about to get married or something, and instead, you break up?"

Quinn didn't reply. She sipped the coffee and closed her eyes and tried to cry. She couldn't. She hadn't been able to yet. Not while leaving the hospital or finding a cab or getting on the train to New York. Her eyes were dry.

"I'm so fucking pissed at you. Because who has to take care of the both of you? Me!"

"I don't need you to-"

"And the apartment, Q? You own that together, right? Is he going to live there? Are you going to sign everything over to him? You had a life together and now it's just over?"

Quinn couldn't think about the apartment yet. She couldn't think of their joined accounts at the bank or all the things they had bought together and not even about how she still had his wallet in her purse because she had taken it from him when they drove to New Haven. All she had was going to be cut in half. Just like her heart. No, she couldn't think about that.

"You fucking idiot" Santana cursed one of more time, appearing finally behind the bookshelf.

She was carrying to glasses and a bottle of whisky. She poured them a glass each, full to the brim. Quinn drank. Her throat burned and her tongue stung and her heart ached.

"You fucking idiot" Santana mumbled softly.

And Quinn cried.


End file.
